


The Art Of Deception

by DaScribbla



Category: Henry IV - Shakespeare, Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, Henry IV Part 2 - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works, The Hollow Crown (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Homophobic Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4871338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaScribbla/pseuds/DaScribbla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hal has a favor to ask. Ned agrees. And then things spiral out of control. </p><p>The fake relationship AU. <br/>Rated M for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened. Inspired by a tumblr ask from nobodytoldthehorse.

Ned stared down at his phone where the text blinked insistently back at him, Kate Nash’s _Dickhead_ floating out from the speakers. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to deal with the Prince of Wales this early on a Monday, but he opened the text anyway.

_Come to my flat. Urgent._

The last time Hal had urgent business to deal with it had been because he’d had run out of beer and had needed somebody to get him through the crisis. He rolled his eyes and sent off a quick reply.

_Be there in 20. Please be wearing clothes._

* * *

 Twenty-five minutes later, Ned was standing in the middle of Hal’s flat, hands in his pockets as he waited for his friend to find a shirt.

“Thank God you’re here,” he called from the bedroom. “I thought I was going to go crazy waiting.” He emerged, pulling a deep burgundy t-shirt over his head.

“Okay, so what’s going on?” Ned asked.

“I have a favor to ask,” Hal said flatly and immediately Ned turned his back and went into the kitchen in immediate retreat.

“Hell no. If this is anything like the time you made me help you pull that pickpocketing stunt to get out of paying the tab--”

“That was one time,” Hal said, going after him. “Anyway it worked, didn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, I was nearly arrested but hey, we didn’t have to pay our tab.” Ned grabbed an already-opened bag of chips and sat on the counter, popping one in his mouth. “So what’s this about?”

Hal took a deep breath.

“You have to promise not to freak out,” he said.

“Okay, it’s phrases like that that make me start freaking out,” Ned said.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Ned looked at Hal’s face and rolled his eyes. “Okay. I won’t freak out. Now what’s going on?”

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Hal said. Ned stared at him.

“Your _what_?”

“Please know that I am only asking because I have no other choice.”

Ned continued to stare. Whatever he’d been expecting… it hadn’t been this.

“Do I even want to know how this became necessary?”

“Look.” Hal pulled up one of the nearby bar stools and sat across from Ned. “It’s like this. Doll’s back in town and she’s kind of still interested.”

“Doll?”

“You met her, like, once. A year ago. Both of you were high.”

“Oh.” It was so easy to lose track of Hal’s friends. His personality was infectious, one of those people who made friends as easily as other people knocked on doors.

“Anyway, she made plans about a month ago to meet up in Eastcheap tonight and I _may_ have told her I found somebody just to put her off. Only problem,” Hal spread his hands wide, “is that now she wants to meet them. That is. You.” He cleared his throat. “So.” He pressed his lips together in his standard _it is what it is_ expression. “It’s just for tonight. Nothing weird. After that, things go back to normal. Come on,” he said pleadingly at Ned’s skeptical expression. “This is important.”

“Okay,” said Ned slowly. “Um… has it occurred to you that she might wonder what happened when we suddenly stop showing up together? Also, does she even _think_ you’re bi?”

“It’ll be fine,” said Hal. “I’ll just tell her that it was all in the name of self-exploration and that I left you for a curvy blonde with bad English and a penchant for tequila shots.”

Ned facepalmed. “See, this is why we can’t let you leave the house. I swear to God, you’re worse than Falstaff sometimes.”

“And besides,” Hal continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “She knew me back when I was in uni and experimenting like everybody else. It won’t be too much of a stretch. So: are you in are not? ‘Cause you know what you’re doing with stuff like this.”

“Being people’s pretend boyfriend? Thanks, _babe_ ,” Ned said with his mouth full.

“No, with the queer things. I mean, you wear your pan on your sleeve--”

“Hal, what the fuck?!” Ned nearly slipped off the counter, spluttering. “I have told exactly nobody about that.”

“Come on, it’s not like you’re hiding. But that’s why you’d be perfect. I mean-- you know what I mean. Um,” Hal waved his hands around. “You’re more experienced.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on.”

Ned gaped.

“I-- why do I let you talk me into this?” he asked to the world at large. “Why are you always so stupid?” That was directed specifically at Hal.

“ _Oh my God, thank you!_ ” Hal leaped from his chair to hug him. “Like I said, it’s just for tonight. 10:00 at the Boar’s Head. Wear something hot.”

Ned snorted, pushing him off. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Hal was an actual adult, let alone a prince.

“Okay, honey. Whatever you say.”

* * *

 The bar had been open for several hours before they showed up. “Damn,” Hal said, coming face to face with Ned. “You don’t cut corners, do you?”

Ned shrugged. He’d spent a shameful amount of time in front of the mirror. Hal had said _hot_ and Ned had been determined to make that happen. If he was going to be the fake boyfriend, then damn it, he was going to do it right. The end result-- black vee-neck, skinny jeans, combat boots, eyeliner, nail varnish-- wasn’t too bad. At the very least, Hal seemed to think so. He looked him up and down, almost as if confused.

“I feel like I under-dressed now,” he said, in face of contrary evidence. Hal had gone for his customary button-down and had added a partially undone navy tie. Also, he’d showered and used some kind of cologne that made the back of Ned’s throat burn. Idiot.

Hal looked past him.

“Doll!”

A moment later, a tall woman a few years older than Hal ran over to them, her dirty blonde hair teased à la the eighties. She hugged Hal first, giving him a loud smack on the lips.

“Hal, good to see you!” she said. She spoke with an extremely thick cockney. “So, who’s the lucky lady…” she trailed off, catching sight of Ned. She looked back at Hal. “Wait. Hang on.” A grin spread across her face. “Oh my God, you never said you had a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, um, is that a _problem_ for you?” Hal asked pointedly, in that same tone a bad actor uses when repeating a cue.

“Problem? Holy shit, this is awesome!” She made a small squeaking noise. “I knew it!” She turned to Ned. “Well _done_. Sorry.” She shook herself. “I’m Doll,” she said, holding out a hand. “And you are…?”

“Ned,” he said shortly, shaking her hand.

“Well, Ned, like I said before. Congrats.” She grabbed each man by his wrist. “Come on. Let’s head in!”

* * *

 

“So how did you two meet?” asked Doll, once they’d grabbed seats inside. Things were already getting loud-- they had to call over the clamor of voices and the music to be heard.

“Uh--” Hal and Ned glanced at each other and then spoke at the same time.

“ _Through friends._ ” They looked at each other again, this time in surprise. They hadn’t expected to say the same thing.

“Aw, you finish each other’s sentences too,” said Doll and got up to order a round. Ned felt his face burn and he put a hand over his mouth in a feeble attempt to disguise the blush. “How long have you been together?”

“Not long,” Ned said as Hal said,

“About five months.” Doll looked from one to the other in expectation.

“Feels shorter than that,” Ned amended finally as he gave Hal a flash of a smile. “Or something.”

Doll got up to get their drinks and Ned leaned over, gritting his teeth.

“ _Five months? Seriously?_ ”

“It was the first number I thought of!” Hal said defensively. “Anyway,” he added, “Be glad I didn’t say years. Then she’d be expecting us to be living together.”

“In which case, we’d say we were taking things _really slowly_.”

Hal snorted. “We’re saying that anyway, right?”

Doll came back, drinks in hand.

“Beers all around, yes?” she said. She looked over at Hal. “You need to loosen up.”

“What?” Hal stared at her in blank confusion.

“You are allowed to cuddle your boyfriend,” she said deliberately. “Seriously. I don’t mind third-wheeling at all.” The drinks clattered into their places. “Is he always this awkward?” she asked Ned.

“He’s an idiot,” Ned said, grinning. “Always puts his foot in his mouth.” Hal swatted him lightly on the shoulder.

“Well no wonder I’m not cuddling you,” he muttered. “What can you expect when you talk shit?”

“Fuck off, I heard that,” Ned replied. Hal rolled his eyes and put his hand over Ned’s, interlocking their fingers. Ned swallowed and began chewing on his tongue. It was tough to look at people all the sudden.

“ _There_ we go. I don’t feel like you’ve been fighting anymore,” said Doll. Her grin faded suddenly. “Hang on, how’s your dad taking all of this?”

“Ah--” Hal laughed humorlessly. “Um. My dad doesn’t know about this?” He smiled tightly.

“What?” Doll stared at them. “You’ve been dating for five months and he still doesn’t know?”

“Um… not really?”

“Are you _ever_ going to tell him?”

“Not unless I absolutely have to,” Hal said darkly. Meanwhile, Ned sipped at his beer and tried to ignore how Hal was absentmindedly playing with his fingers. Distracting.

Eventually, the conversation turned to college anecdotes and the atmosphere relaxed a little, along with Hal’s grip on his fingers. In the middle of the infamous _Angry Coke Reaction_ story, Hal let go completely. Despite the clamminess, Ned’s hand felt cold without the prince’s over it.

At that moment Mistress Quickly, the proprietor of the bar, came by their table. A lady of about sixty-seven, she was seen more or less as the honorary grandmother of the usual Boar’s Head crowd-- at least, a grandmother who could pinch a penny till kingdom come and was completely willing to send around a few of the lads to make sure your debts were paid. She was very strictly _Mistress_ or simply Quickly. Nobody would dream of calling her anything else.

Quickly and Doll greeted each other with a hug.

“Doll, where’ve you been?” asked Quickly. Doll shrugged.

“All over. Was up in Newcastle for a while. Just road-tripped mostly. But here, why didn’t you tell me about Hal and Ned?”

Quickly blinked, gave both boys a cursory glance as if to make sure all their limbs were still attached and looked back at Doll.

“What about them?

“He and Ned! Being _together_?” Doll repeated. “Why did you never say anything?”

“What?” Quickly went back to Hal and Ned. “How have I never noticed?”

Ned glanced uneasily at Hal, but the prince didn’t seem to have missed a beat. He shrugged and grinned.

“Dunno. Maybe you’re getting old and blind, Missus,” he said and ducked her immediate swipe.

“You mean she didn’t know either?” Doll asked in disbelief. “Fuck, you guys _are_ good. I mean, five months. Damn.”

“Five _months_?” Quickly stared at them both, looking a little hurt. “Boys… you could have told me. I wouldn’t have said anything. Especially with your dad being the way he is.” She nodded at Hal.

“We… we just thought it would be better not to say anything in general,” Ned said after a moment, feeling both of them sink deeper into the mess. He started a little as Hal’s fingers returned, wrapping over his free hand and squeezing for a moment. Suddenly he wondered how much of this was really play-acting on Hal’s part. Then he mentally shook himself. Hal was straight as an arrow. At least, an arrow that liked to get drunk a lot and didn’t really mind who was around as long as it got to take its clothes off every night. As for romance… well…. Ned privately suspected that Hal just wasn’t geared for that kind of thing. For himself, Ned pushed his personal feelings and suspicions away and instead focused on making this thing believable. So he didn’t pull away and if he blushed a little… that was only natural for a long term couple finally coming out of the closet, wasn’t it?

At last, the flurry of questions subsided and Hal suggested they migrate to another place, maybe a club. There would be further excuses not to talk. Although it was kind of fun to make up their history together-- how they met, their first date, that kind of thing.

Now, music pulsed through Ned’s ears.

“You two should dance,” Doll said. “Seriously. It’s not like the earth will crack and swallow you whole.”

“Are you kidding? He’s the Prince of Wales,” said Ned, calling to be heard over the music. Doll shrugged. Like most of the Boar’s Head crowd, of which she was definitely a part, she seemed to consider Hal’s title an afterthought to the man himself.

“Come on, we’re in the corner. Nobody’s going to notice.”

Ned looked out at the sea of grinding couples and gulped.

“Er, but what about you?” he asked Doll.

“Oh trust me,” she said, laughing, “I do _not_ intend to go home alone tonight. Go on. Have fun, for God’s sake.” And she more or less pushed them onto the floor.

Ned and Hal stared at each other, both laughing a little nervously.

“Um,” said Ned, too quietly to be heard over the noise. Standing stock-still on the dancefloor, they were starting to attract some passing glances-- the last thing they needed. Seemingly without another thought, Hal seized his hands and pulled Ned closer.

“Look, we’re going to have to get personal or else we’ll look weird,” he murmured in Ned’s ear. His breath smelled a lot like beer. “We can _no homo_ this later if you want.”

“We both know I’m all about the homo,” Ned replied, likewise in his partner’s ear. “But if it makes you feel any better.” They started moving back and forth a little robotically, pressing tentatively together. “This is close enough,” Ned said. “I don’t think your masculinity will survive anything more.” He smirked.

“Oh, will you shut up?” Hal snapped good-naturedly.

“Never,” Ned replied, still grinning. He looked around at the other dancing couples. “We still look stiff,” he said and sighed.

“One way to fix that,” Hal said and turned, his hands in the air, to lean back against Ned. Ned himself was frozen, unable to do anything but stare as the prince kept his hands outstretched towards the distant ceiling, his hips continuing to circle around and around…

“Jesus, Hal. What if somebody sees?” He hissed even as he began to move along with him.

“So?”

“So you’re the bloody Prince of Wales!” Ned insisted. “I can’t believe _I’m_ actually the one to be concerned about this.”

“Just let it happen,” Hal called over the music.

“You’re stupid,” Ned said, rolling his eyes.

Stupid, but magnetic as well. The scent of Hal’s cologne, which Ned thought had faded, hadn’t. Now he was assaulted anew by it. The prince was making no attempt to keep any distance between them-- his hair brushed against Ned’s cheek and he wondered momentarily how it got so soft and how he had never noticed it before. He was trying not to think about the throb that was growing much farther downward.

A glance up at the wall made his heart skip a beat. Awkwardly, he bent his mouth to Hal’s ear.

“There’s a guy over there with his phone out. And he’s looking right at us.”

“Shit,” Hal stopped completely for a moment, but only a moment. And then he’d turned with lightning speed, seized Ned’s jaw, and his lips seemed to come crashing down with strange inevitability onto Ned’s.

It was like the world was drowning all of the sudden. Ned ceased to hear the music as their lips moved against each other. Their fingertips brushed and laced together. They were motionless, their breath coming in gentle gasps between kisses.

Hal pulled away first, rubbing his lips together.

“That should do it. I’m not facing him, am I?”

Ned shook his head dumbly. Both of them looked down to where their hands were still linked. They swallowed and let go almost instantly.

“Doll’s over there. I think she just mouthed _ten out of ten_ at us,” Hal said wryly. He saw Ned’s expression. “Are you okay?”

Ned swallowed again and shook his head. His stomach seemed to have dropped several levels and his lips blazed.

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” he heard himself say, and stumbled there.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward goodnights, bar-side conversation, and Hal is unfortunately himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to nobodytoldthehorse for sending me this prompt!

Splashing water on his face, Ned blinked hard and tried to be rational. All in the line of duty, right? As a Fake Boyfriend™, he should have expected something of the kind. Still, you don’t use tongues when kissing in self-defense. And you definitely shouldn’t feel all your blood rush south when your best friend puts his hands on you. And now Hal would probably think that he couldn’t take a joke or something and--

\-- and then they’d never get to dance like that again. Being around Hal demanded an ability to roll with anything and everything. You never knew. It could happen.

Anyway, Hal was notoriously bad with personal space.

With a reverberating creak, the bathroom door swung open. Hal. Of-fucking-course.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Ned muttered. “You shouldn’t be in here,” he added. “People might recognize you and then you’re fucked.”

Hal shrugged that off.

“Look, did I go too far?”

“Hal,” Ned rubbed at his temples. “Hal, just drop it. I’m fine. Really.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look fine.”

“I’m just-- I think I’d like to go home.” Ned looked down at the sink. “I’m tired.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s still pretty early for us--”

 _“Yes, I’m sure!”_ Ned snapped and immediately regretted it. “Look, I’m sorry. That was…”

“It’s okay,” Hal said shortly and somehow Ned felt that it genuinely hadn’t mattered to him. Hal just didn’t seem to get hurt by those kinds of things. “Come on,” he put his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find Doll and say goodbye.”

Ned, conflicted by the desire to pull away and lean closer, simply nodded.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

They found Doll with several men by the bar, challenging them all to do shots with her. They, knowing when they were beaten, were wisely refusing.

“Hey, Doll. Doll. _Doll_.” Hal shook her by the shoulder and finally, she turned.

‘Hi!” she said brightly.

“Hey. Ned’s not feeling well so we’re going to head home.” Ned endeavored to look ill as Hal wrapped an arm protectively around his shoulders. “Are you going to be okay, or…” he glanced at the three men around her.

“Oh yeah,” she said easily. “I’ve got it covered. You all have fun.”

It wasn’t until they were out the door and in the cool night air that Hal realized what he’d said.

“Fuck.”

“What?” Ned said harshly. He was tired of people messing up.

“I made it sound like we live together. Fuck.”

Ned rolled his eyes.

“Okay, it’s official. I am never letting you talk in public again.”

They piled into the back of a cab and Hal gave the driver Ned’s address. He looked at him.

“So. Are you going to talk to me,” he asked, “Or just sit there looking sullen?”

Ned looked out at the traffic they passed and shrugged.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“Look, _is_ this about the kiss?” Ned sucked in a breath and let it out with a pop.

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” he said sarcastically.

“Do you want to talk boundaries?” Hal asked. Ned swiveled around to look at him.

“What happened to _just for tonight?”_

Hal sighed and leaned back against the cab upholstery, rubbing his temples.

“Look, after tonight I don’t think we’re going to be able to pass this off as a one-night thing, do you? If it had been just Doll who saw us, then we might have gotten away with it. But now Quickly knows and since we seem to have recreated such amorous bliss--” he sighed again. “They’re going to kill us if we break up.” He made air quotes around the last two words.

“Hal, we can’t keep this up forever!” Ned protested.

“Oh come on, I’m not proposing marriage. Just a week at most. We can stage a breakup-- nothing messy-- and it’ll be fine. We just have to make it believable.”

Ned groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I can’t believe you’ve talked me into all this,” he said. “Why are you so stupid?”

“So. Boundaries?”

Ned glanced at the cabbie, who had his eyes fixed firmly on the road.

“Are you sure you don’t want to discuss this when we get out?” he asked Hal in an undertone. “Let’s face it, you have much more to lose than I do.” Hal rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. Ned stared. “I don’t get you sometimes,” he said. “How do you just not care? I mean, your dad must be pissed with you.”

“How do you feel about holding hands?” Hal asked abruptly and Ned understood that the direction the conversation had been driving in was not to be taken again.

“It’s fine.” He looked back out at the passing cityscape.

“Kissing?”

“Just warn me first,” he said after a moment’s thought. “In fact, with anything like that, warn me. And I’ll do the same for you.” Another thought occurred to him. “Hal?”

“Hm?” Like Ned, the prince’s gaze was fixed on the outside world.

“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you? I mean, doing this with a guy who’s into guys?”

“Come on,” Hal looked around to give him a flat stare. “It is a weak man who can’t handle stuff like that. It’s like changing in front of a gay guy. Maybe there’re a few moments of awkwardness but, in the long run, it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.” Ned turned his attention back to the window and the rest of the car ride passed in silence. Something about what Hal had said had cut him, but he’d be damned if he knew what or why.

Saying goodbye was more difficult than usual-- mostly because Ned couldn’t wipe out the memories of Hal grinding on him or of their lips coming together. Perhaps the same thoughts were assailing Hal since he merely gave him a tight smile.

“See you.”

“See you.”

Another lingering stare.

“Sorry I freaked out,” Ned said. “You just… you took me by surprise. That’s all.”

“S’okay. Should have warned you.”

Another ill-executed smile and then Ned was heading inside. Once upstairs, he looked out his bedroom window and saw that the cab was gone.

* * *

They’d all gone to bed late that night and woke up the next morning in varying shades of hungover. A little before noon, Ned’s phone flashed up. Hal.

_Boar’s Head tonight? Doll and Falstaff will be there._

Ned cursed out loud.

_I forgot about Falstaff._

Two minutes later, they were on the phone.

 _“You_ forgot _about Falstaff?”_ Hal sounded disbelieving, even over the phone. _“Bitch please.”_

“Okay, I was kind of distracted last night. But come on, think about it. You _know_ he’s going to make a thing of it. He wouldn’t be Falstaff if he didn’t.”

 _“Look, we get through the initial mortification and then it’s straight sailing from there. Well.”_ Ned could hear him grin. _“You know what I mean.”_ He paused. _“What are you doing?”_

Ned clattered a plate and glass onto his kitchen counter, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder.

“Reheating takeout.”

_“Thai?”_

“You know me too well.”

After a moment, Hal said casually,

_“Thai sounds good right now.”_

“No,” Ned said immediately. “You’re a grown man and also royalty. You can order for yourself.”

 _“Heartless,”_ Hal said in mock hurt.

“Yes, yes, _bad_ pretend boyfriend-- hang on,” Ned paused in opening the microwave door. “With your reputation hanging in the balance and with Falstaff being the way he is… how do you plan to keep this under the radar?”

 _“Ned, I don’t keep_ anything _under the radar, you know that.”_

“Yeah, but what about your dad?”

Hal was silent.

 _“Then… I tell him I was questioning. And that I was wrong.”_ The humor of yesterday’s similar conversation was gone. _“He’s not against gay people. It’s just that I can’t be. Royal succession and all that fucking medieval shit.”_

Ned didn’t comment on the blatant frustration in Hal’s voice. It wasn’t his place.

“Still,” he said softly.

 _“There won’t be a lot of people there,”_ Hal said. _“We’re coming pretty close to closing time and Quickly’s letting us stay after. Falstaff and Doll will be there. The usual crowd. It’ll be okay.”_

Ned forced a smile, even though he knew his friend couldn’t see it.

“Let me guess: wear something hot?”

_“Yep. See you tonight.”_

“See you.”

* * *

 With their usual sense of timing, they arrived at the Boar’s Head exactly fifteen minutes before closing. It was a more casual get-together that night, so Ned had made do with just jeans and a vee-neck, leaving off the makeup. But he added a square scarf in the name of uniqueness. Hal straightened out his burgundy button-down and then reached down to take Ned’s hand.

“Shall we?”

Ned nodded and they headed inside.

Falstaff, sitting with his impressive girth by the bar, shouted a greeting at Hal and Ned and then went back to haranguing Quickly.

“He _must_ be getting old,” Hal muttered. “He missed this.” He snorted, squeezing Ned’s hand and Ned felt a small thrill run through him. He pushed the thought of it to the back of his mind and followed where Hal led him.

“Hope you don’t expect me to cover your tab again,” Hal said to Falstaff cheerfully. He looked over at Ned. “What’re you having?”

“Vodka’s fine.”

“Two vodkas, same tab please,” Hal said to Quickly, who grinned to herself and reached for two glasses.

“Hal--” Ned began in protest, but was interrupted.

“Come on, let me buy for you. Least I can do.” Hal lowered his voice. “Besides, you deserve one with all the shit you’re dealing with.”

“Well, I won’t argue with that.”

“So you’re buying a drink for Poins but not for me.” Falstaff eyed Hal. “Alright. Alright. I see how it is.”

“Do you, though?” Hal asked absently and took the drinks that Quickly handed him, giving one to Ned. They clinked glasses. Falstaff replied but neither was paying him any attention.

“Cheers.”

Ned grimaced.

“Ugh, you’re going suburban,” he said. “I don’t think we can do this anymore.” Hal clutched at his heart in mock pain.

“How can you? After all this time.” Ned rolled his eyes.

“Drama queen.”

Hal lowered his voice again.

“Can I kiss you?” Ned swallowed and tried to will away the shudder that went down his spine.

“Sure.”

Hal’s lips brushed against his cheek for a moment. It seemed to Ned that the prince was being rather outgoing for a hetero, but again he shoved the thought away. He looked past Hal, to where Falstaff was now talking to one of the other bar regulars with his back turned to the two of them.

“Didn’t see.”

“Oh well,” Hal grinned, taking a gulp of his vodka. “He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Hello boys,” came a voice behind them. Doll hopped onto the barstool beside them, smoothing out her miniskirt. “Doing well, I hope?”

“Yes, indeed.” Hal raised his glass to her and downed the rest of it. Doll watched, impressed.

“You definitely hold them better than the last time I saw you,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Hal!” Falstaff materialized between Doll and Hal and grabbed his arm. “Hal, you need to show Pistol that imitation of your father that you do.” Laughing, Hal allowed himself to be led off, still holding his empty glass. Doll motioned Ned closer, taking a sip of her zombie.

“So I know I’ve told you this, like, a million times now,” she said, “But I really have to congratulate you. You know how to pick them. So does he.” Her lips curved into a smile, watching Hal and the other, older men, all of them laughing uproariously. The mirth was attracting more of a crowd. Most of the bar seemed engrossed in what was going on. “You want to move closer?” Doll asked him. Ned shook his head, laughing a bit.

“I’m fine here. I’ll intervene if I think he’s going to hurt himself,” he said. Doll snorted.

“He hasn’t changed a bit, I’ll give him that,” she said. “We had an on-again-off-again thing for a while, actually.” She looked over at Ned. “Sorry. If you don’t want me to talk about that--”

“Oh no!” Ned said hastily. “I don’t mind. Trust me, I’ve known Hal for a while. I’m under no illusions.”

Hal had finally broken away from the crowd and was now by the radio at the edge of the bar counter, starting to sway to the music that was playing. From where he and Doll were, Ned could hear only the faint beat of the song.

“Ah, there it is,” Doll said, grinning. Hal was dancing now, turning circles.

“There’s what?” Ned said, a touch absently.

“That look of possessive pride,” Doll teased. “I’d know it anywhere. Universal, that is.”

Ned quickly dropped his gaze and took a swig of his drink.

“Didn’t realize,” he mumbled, completely honestly. Doll only laughed and patted him on the back.

“Believe me, I don’t blame you. I mean, with an arse like that… goddamn.” They were silent for a moment and Ned found his eyes pulled as if magnetically back to Hal. Still dancing-- his arms held high, hips working slowly…

“Is he still into body shots?”

“Wait, what?” Ned was jerked back to earth. The woman beside him covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head.

“Sorry. No internal filter, not even when I’m sober.” A pause. “Is he, though?”

“Um-- yeah. Yep.” Ned swallowed and hoped that Doll interpreted his awkwardness as mere discomfort with disclosing his sex life. The bar was quickly emptying out. _Must be near closing time,_ he thought. He looked over at Hal again, who jerked his head as if to say come over. Ned flashed a smile and raised his glass to him, but stayed where he was. He’d learned enough last night to avoid dancing with Hal. Things happened. Control was lost. He’d stay where he was for now. Both of them jumped as Quickly rapped her fist on the counter.

“Alright, we are officially closed. Get out. I am an old lady and I need to sleep.”

The final stragglers paid their tabs and made their way groggily to the door. Only the privileged few-- Ned, Hal, Doll, Falstaff, and few others-- were permitted to stay. Hal didn’t seem to have noticed the sudden absence of people. He kept dancing, seeming to be lost in his own world-- at least, until he looked over at Ned and, seeing that he’d managed to catch his attention, waved his fingers in a beckoning motion, still swaying. Ned hesitated, biting his lip. Hal’s eyes seemed to be making an invitation all their own, whether their owner was conscious of it or not. _Fuck it._ He put aside his drink and joined Hal by the radio, abandoning Doll.

“The moment Falstaff sees us,” he muttered with a look at the man himself, who was now in lively conversation with Doll and putting away the last of her zombie, “We’re-- we’re never going to hear the end of this. That’s all.”

“He’s going to find out sooner or later,” Hal scoffed. He gave him a lopsided smile. “Let’s make it sweet this time, yeah?”

“What’s your definition of sweet?” Ned said under his breath, mirroring his friend’s sway. He didn’t know where to look-- not Hal’s lips, definitely not, not his throat, not his shoulders, not his chest… and looking past him seemed rude. He settled for the floor.

Hal’s hands had settled at his waist, bringing them closer. Ned willed himself not to look up. The radio sounded louder than it had before, the bar had quietened down and Ned knew that people were starting to stare.

_… how proud I am to be yours… leave this dress so nice on the floor..._

But… he couldn’t bring himself to care just yet. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Hal’s neck. His cologne-- the same damn stuff as last night-- was heavy in his nose. If he tilted his head, his face would be buried his neck.

“Ned.”

He was forced to meet Hal’s gaze at that. The prince was looking down at him, something unreadable in his expression.

“What is it?” Ned murmured. In answer, Hal hooked one finger around Ned’s scarf and closed the short distance between their lips.

It wasn’t like last night. Not entirely. It was gentler somehow, as if he were taking the time to memorize the shape and taste of Ned’s mouth. There’d been no warning and so either Hal was drunk enough that he forgot-- which was ridiculous since he’d only had that vodka and Ned knew him better than that-- or that this wasn’t part of their deception. That this was meant only for them. And that Ned had to drastically reevaluate everything he thought he knew about his friend.

And all of that was concurred by the hand that ran through Ned’s hair and the way they’d halted there, with his spine pressing into the counter as he leaned back. Their lips never ceased, never seemed to leave. Part of him hoped they’d never stop. That there could be such a thing as kissing first and asking questions later. Much later.

They broke apart and Ned just managed to disguise his soft moan of protest as a gasp for air. Or something. He hadn’t done it very well, he knew. Hal looked bleary-eyed somehow, as if he had shocked himself. They stood there blinking, neither able to meet the other’s gaze, their chests rising and falling as they struggled to catch up with their breath.

“Bloody hell,” Falstaff said from further down the counter and downed his drink.

* * *

 “That might not have been the wisest thing to do,” Ned passed a joint to Hal, who took a long drag on it. They were sitting outside, leaning against the building. It was a little over an hour since they’d kissed for the second time. “I mean, he might end up telling the world. And then you’re fucked.” Hal was silent and Ned swallowed. Something was preying on his mind. “Did you think it was weird, what he said? About him never noticing because we act like that all the time.” He looked over at the prince. “Hal?”

Hal closed his eyes, the joint held by one hand between his lips.

“Is everything okay?” Ned asked. Still, his friend said nothing. “Is something wrong?” That came out sharper than he’d intended, but he made no attempt to soften his words.

“I don’t feel like talking right now,” Hal said finally.

“I do,” Ned said, more softly this time. “I thought we agreed to warn each other before--” he stopped. “The thing is,” he went on after a moment’s thought, “That didn’t feel like we were pretending--”

“I got caught up in the moment, alright?” Hal said finally. “I wanted to see what it would feel like. I was curious. Why?”

“Okay, you realize how defensive you sound right now, right?” Hal tried to interrupt by Ned pressed on. “And tell me, just so I know--” He’d moved around so he was facing him completely, both still sitting on the curb. “-- is this just an experiment to make sure you’re straight?”

“What? No!” Hal protested. “I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“Then please tell me what this about!” Ned exclaimed. “Dammit, I don’t want to keep doing this if I don’t know. And come on, you’d already kissed me before--” He stopped short. That had been different. A kiss of necessity. Swallowing his frustration, he made his tone more gentle. “Look, if you’re curious… I won’t mind. If you want to experiment, that’s okay--”

Hal stood abruptly, dropping the joint onto the asphalt.

“I don’t want to listen to this,” he snapped and stalked away, hands in his pockets.

“Fine, then don’t!” Ned got to his feet and called after him. “Just keep fucking running!”

“Fuck you!” Hal yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner.

Resisting the urge to punch a wall, Ned bit into his tongue and sat back on the curb.  

_He could just fucking say something. Fucking straight._

How could he have ever entertained the idea that Hal was interested? But that kiss… it had felt so real. So genuinely desperate. And Hal has seemed so, well… so _into_ it.

_Fucking straight. Of-fucking-course._

* * *

Around four AM, Ned’s phone flashed up. Groggily, he sat up on the couch, rubbing at his eyes. The screen was way too bright in the gloom of his flat. He’d probably drunk more than he should have. That had become his defense mechanism whenever he got angry, at some point.

It was Hal. Ned debated on whether to leave it till the morning -- or at least when the sky was light-- or to simply get it over with. Sighing, he opened the text.

_Sorry about earlier. I was a dick. Friends?_

Ned groaned and put his head in his hands. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. This was getting too personal. Too weird, honestly. Besides. Even before all this had started something had been telling him that this -- their friendship, Hal’s careless nature -- was going to end up on the rocks.

He really shouldn’t. No one could fault him for attempting self-preservation.

He typed out a quick reply.

_It’s ok. Friends._

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emergency movie nights, close encounters, Falstaff puts his foot in his mouth, and communication happens (sort of).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not completely happy with this chapter, but here you all are anyway. Also, thanks for all the support both here and on tumblr. You guys are great.  
> By the way, there will probably be about two more chapters after this one.  
> As always, thanks to nobodytoldthehorse for prompting!

Somehow it turned routine. This double life they had taken up became another kind of normal. Ever since the trainwreck that had been the other night, they made sure to keep their makeouts to a level two. They never forgot to warn each other again. Get up, live your life, go to whatever club or bar he pulls you to next, hang on each other, make a good show of heading to the door, and then go home. Hal had not yet broached the subject of their ending it. Ned wasn’t going to hurry him. Hal had started it for selfish reasons -- Ned would let it run as long as he could for reasons equally selfish. Did that make him a horrible friend or simply human? He didn’t want to find out.

Hal appeared at this side late one evening from where he’d been talking with another group. Wrapped his arm casually around his shoulder.

“How do you feel about a movie night?” he asked, taking a swig from Ned’s bottle.

“What brought this on?” he asked, deciding to overlook it.

“Doll’s taking us home.”

“Ah.”

“I mean, she already thinks we’re cohabitating. It’d be weird if we got out at different places.” Hal returned the bottle. “We’ll do my place, yeah?”

“Sure.” They’d done this all the time back at uni. Spending the night was nothing new. Now, though.. there was no denying that the dynamic would be different.

Cool, be cool... he told himself.

“What do you want to watch?” Hal asked. Ned shrugged.

“We’ll see what we’ve got. Worst comes to worst, there’s always Netflix.”

The cab ride was tight, with Hal sandwiched between Doll and Ned, and the other two squeezed into the corners. They’d all drunk enough that it didn’t matter too much. In the last week, Ned had grown personally resigned to the fact that Hal was a touchy-feely kind of drunk.

“Good lord, he was never as bad as this back with me,” Doll laughed as Hal burrowed closer into Ned, burying his face in his neck. “Must be you, I guess.”

Ned muttered something about not knowing and then hissed because Hal’s lips had found his earlobe. He pulled back sharply.

“ _Jesus_ , Hal, not in public!”

“This isn’t public, this is a cab,” Hal protested, but obediently lay his head quietly on his shoulder. If Ned had to put a word to the emotion rising within himself, the best name he could have found would have been _squee_.

“You two are bloody disgusting,” Doll said. Eyes closed, Hal gave her two fingers. She just laughed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ned said. “We’re pulling in.”

They said their goodbyes and then they were both climbing-stumbling out of the car. Hal caught up with Ned.

“Hey, can I kiss you?”

Ned didn’t reply, just turned around and pulled him into his arms. It was appropriately breathless. They looked like two people about to have the best drunken shag of their lives. As the cab pulled away, Hal grabbed Ned’s hand and pulled him into the building.

“Okay. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, or play it by ear?” Hal said once they were in his apartment.

“Play it by ear,” Ned said, shedding his jacket and dropping it on the couch. _Just like old times, just like old times,_ he reminded himself. He went to Hal’s DVD case and surveyed the contents.

“Let’s see... Pretty Woman, the Nolan Batman, Battlestar Galac --  oh for God’s sake.”

“What?” Hal appeared in the doorway of his kitchen, several bags of microwavable popcorn in his hand.

“Blue Is The Warmest Color? Seriously?”

“It’s a good film!” Hal said defensively. “I mean, once you get through all the porn. And anyway,” he added, “I know for a fact that you own Brokeback Mountain. So. You have no right to judge.”

“Touché.”

Ned left the bookcase and joined him in the kitchen.

“You pick,” he said. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. We’re pretty good here.” Hal started the microwave, seeming not to hear the loud pops inside. He’d cast off his drunkenness, a habit Ned had been familiar with for a long time. He always behaved more inebriated than he was, for some reason. Remembering this made those moments in the car seem a lot less sweet.

_It’s just an act. Keep your head on your shoulders._

“Butter and salt, or sriracha?”

“Butter, but I know you’re angling for sriracha.”

“Two bowls then.”

“What do you want to watch?” Ned asked, leaning against the counter.

“I’m thinking Vikings.”

“Sounds good. I’ll start it up.” He headed for the door. Behind him, the microwave beeped and Ned heard Hal open it.

“Hey, turn around.”

Ned rolled his eyes and obeyed, already knowing what was coming. He caught the popcorn kernel perfectly in his mouth.

“Thanks, babe,” he said and headed into the living room.

It wasn’t until he was turning on the TV that he realized what he’d done.

_Shit._

Well. That was fucking embarrassing. What could he say? These days, he looked at Hal and... well... it was hard not to immediately think _mine_.

This was getting bad. So fucking bad.

Two bowls clattered onto the coffee table and Hal came up behind him.

“Start from the beginning?” was all he said, his hands coming onto his shoulders.

“Sure,” Ned managed. He looked over his shoulder at the other boy, his eyes flicking down to where his hands rested. Hal immediately took them away. A moment of silence, and then Hal laughed.

“It’s weird how normal this feels,” he said. A moment later, Ned joined in, only partially relieved.

“Yeah.”

Abruptly Ned turned back to the TV and loaded in the disk and Hal ran back into the kitchen, to get napkins, he said.

By the time the main titles were rolling, both of them had headed in and out of various parts of the house. Ned wasn’t willing to theorize at all on Hal, not at this point, but for himself, he knew that he was stalling. Sitting down on a couch together just… God. What had happened to their friendship?

“Oh my God, Ned. Just sit the fuck down!” Hal called from the den. “If we need something, we can get it later. It’s _fine_.”

“Okay, okay!” Ned took a deep breath and headed back.

The first episode actually began just as he sat down beside his friend. His mind kept wandering. He’d seen enough films to know where this could go. And God -- he didn’t dare let his gaze stray from the screen -- the things he would do if Hal would let him. And if Ned could break those last few brain cells that were clinging to common sense. Common sense be damned. What was caution in the face of --

“Ned. You _are_ allowed to move closer, you know. I won’t report it to my dad.”

A flash of a smile and then Ned inched closer so he was sitting directly beside him.

God but this was difficult.

And there was Hal, eyes on the screen, completely oblivious to Ned’s thoughts. Damn it, he usually wasn’t like this when he drank. It was just so hard to not to let his mind wander. He hadn’t gotten laid in awhile, he realized suddenly. _Probably part of the problem,_ he told himself. Maybe that explained this whole blasted affair. He was just sexually frustrated and projecting the problem onto his best friend. Yeah. Freud would enjoy that one.

But he was good. He dragged his mind away from the curve of Hal’s lip, or the glimpse of his collarbone that that purple button-down afforded, and tried to focus on the show.

Eventually, they ran out of popcorn. Neither made any move to get more. When they got tired of Vikings, they grabbed Hal’s laptop and pulled up Netflix. Sometime in the middle of the sacrifice episode, the ice had finally broken -- they lay now stretched out across the couch, in each other’s personal space just like they had back at Oxford.

“Fucking rich people,” Ned mumbled halfway through their second episode of Gossip Girl. “Hal?”

“Mm?”

“Never be like that.”

“Mmkay.”

* * *

 

Ned opened his eyes. The computer screen saver was running and the lights were still on. Hal’s body was warm against his own. His cheek pressed against his chest, Ned nestled a little closer. His brain was still half asleep. All that registered was warmth.

Hal shifted slightly and then the rest of his brain woke up.

How long had he been asleep? The clock on Hal’s screensaver said 2:40. About an hour then. He suddenly realized where his head rested and he jerked away immediately.

“Shit, sorry!” Hal said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

_Oh shit, he wasn’t asleep._

“Sorry, I didn’t realize..” Ned began, and then wondered how he’d continue. That he’d fallen asleep? That he’d fallen asleep on Hal’s shoulder? That Hal _hadn’t?_ Ned felt a rush of cold air come over his shoulders as Hal moved his arm. He’d had his arm around him. That’s why he’d felt so comfortable. So warm. Hal’s scent was everywhere, an edge of his usual cologne with something that was purely him.

“You want to turn in?” Hal asked.

They’d been roommates during their first year at Oxford, and throughout the next few years, they’d gotten comfortable enough with each other that sharing a bed was just something else that they did.

Not anymore. There was no way he was climbing into bed with Hal.

“You can. I’m good on the sofa.” To prove his point, he nestled into the couch corner. Hal must have been tired enough that he didn’t dispute it. He shrugged.

“Suit yourself. ‘Night.”

Ned hummed in response and turned his back to the other boy. A second later, the lights switched off. In the dark, he could hear the sound of Hal padding away.

_Thank God._

The next thing he knew, a blanket was being draped over him. Ned froze. One false move and everything could be ruined. Like trying to photograph a bird.

The room was dark, but Ned didn’t need his vision to feel how Hal’s hands lingered at his shoulders just a little too long.

After that, it was kind of difficult to sleep.

* * *

 

He was rudely awoken around eleven in the morning by Hal, who appeared to be panicking.

“Get up get up get up,” he said urgently, whipping off the blanket. Ned hissed at the explosion of cold air.

“Hal, what the fuck --”

“Falstaff’s here,” he said. “I saw him outside.”

“Fuck!” Ned was up in a second, smoothing back his hair.

“The stairs are going to give him some trouble, so we’ve probably got about six minutes,” Hal rushed. “I swear to God, the day they install elevators here is the day I pack up and move.” He tossed the blanket over the back of the couch. “We gotta get rid of him.”

“Okay, remind me why?” Ned asked blearily. At Hal’s impatient look, he added, “Come on, you know I suck at mornings.”

“We’re supposed to have gone home together last night,” he said deliberately. “You do realize what that’s supposed to look like?”

“Oh fuck,” Ned rubbed at his temples. “Okay, okay. Take your shirt off and mess up your hair. I’ll yell a lot from the bedroom and sound really pissed off. If he’s not freaked out by The Gays, a lot of complaining should do it.”

“Right.” Hal ripped off his t-shirt -- unlike Ned, he’d had the luxury of changing before bed -- and ran a hand through his hair. Ned turned around strategically and began clearing up the room for something to do with his hands. When he turned back around, he found Hal biting into the flesh of his upper arm. “Hal, what the --”

“I haven’t had sex in, like, two weeks,” he said. “Don’t exactly have any fresh hickeys, do I?”

“Point taken,” Ned said. Hal went back to gnawing his own arm. “How much time do we have?”

“Like maybe three minutes? Oh for fuck’s sake.” Hal gave up. “Ned, I have a huge favor to ask you.”

“Are you seriously --?” He could have sworn he heard footsteps on the stairs outside the apartment door.

“Please?”

“Seriously, though, how have you not been murdered yet -- oh fuck it.”

Before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed Hal and sank his teeth into the point between his neck and shoulder. Hal yelped.

“ _Jesus_ , is that how you always do it?”

Ned moved to a spot a few inches lower and bit him again, sucking hard. _Not here right now, this can’t actually be happening. Nope, not at all._

_Fuck, he tastes good._

_This can’t be happening._

_Holy fuck._

“Ow, and again I say ow!” Hal complained.

“Three’s the charm,” Ned murmured and moved to his neck. Hal didn’t say anything, but Ned felt him gulp. It took too much self-control not to put his hands on him. Far more not to just keep measuring his body with his mouth. Hal trusted him enough to let him do this -- he wasn’t going to break that trust. “Done,” he said, standing upright again. Hal hissed and rubbed at the bite at his throat.

“I’ll be in the back,” Ned said finally. “Call me out if things go --”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Fuck!”

Ned turned and dashed for the bedroom. The door safely closed behind him, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. He could still taste Hal’s skin in his mouth. Just then, he heard a yell from the hall.

“Ned, it’s Falstaff!”

“Seriously?” he called back through the door. “We stop for _Falstaff_?”

Kissing was one thing. The odd grope was one thing. Purposefully biting --

\-- but Hal wouldn’t even think about it, would he? He didn’t work like that. All in the line of duty. That’s what he’d say. There was no point in even entertaining the idea that Hal would have reciprocated. Even he’d wanted to, there was just no way. He was a prince and that’s not what a prince could do. And that thought cut more deeply than Ned had thought it could.

“Ned, he’s not leaving!”

“Seriously?”

_No. Don’t make me go out there and look him in the face. Don’t._

On a spur of inspiration, Ned grabbed Hal’s discarded button-down from last night and began pulling off his own shirt.

“Ned!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!”

Ned opened the door and walked into the kitchen where the other two were, doing up the buttons of Hal’s shirt as he went.

“And what could possibly be so important that it drags us out of bed?” he asked to the world at large. Hal’s eyes went wide as he took in the shirt, but he recovered magnificently.

“Apparently I should be making time for my friends as well as my boyfriend,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Translation: Jack’s feeling lonely and neglected.”

“Or, translation: he’s run out of beer and now it’s time to raid our stash,” Ned quipped.

“Pure slander,” Falstaff said, crossing his arms. “Although, since you mention it…”

Hall rolled his eyes again and reached for the beer bottle on the counter. He was still shirtless.

“I was just telling Hal that I think he’s been to war,” Falstaff added dryly. “Going by appearances, at least.”

“I tell you,” Hal said, grabbing several glasses from the nearby cabinet, “he’s fucking lethal.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ned began.

“You fucking mauled me. Look!” Hal gestured in mock-fury at the still-livid love bites on his shoulder and chest.

“Well, I don’t exactly remember you complaining at the time,” Ned shot back. In response, Hal gave him a wink that made him lose his train of thought for a moment.

“Ugh, listen to you both,” Falstaff said. “I can’t tell if you’re an old married couple or bloody newlyweds.”

“Your own damn fault,” Hal retorted. “Don’t interrupt us in the morning.” But he smiled anyway. “To the den?”

 

* * *

 

“Honestly, I’m amazed,” Falstaff settled back on Hal’s armchair and crossed his arms over his expansive belly. “I wouldn’t have expected you to get so attached like that.”

“Oh…” Hal shrugged, pouring him a glass of beer from the coffee table. “It happens when it happens, you know.” He handed out the glasses, one to Falstaff, one to Ned, who had just sat down beside Hal, and one for himself. He sat back on the sofa and Ned tentatively pressed his leg against his. Hal didn’t pull away, so…

Oh, who was he kidding? He’d given him goddamned hickeys not ten minutes ago.

“And it’s been five months?” Falstaff said dryly.

“Something like that, yeah.” Ned sipped at his beer. “Time flies, hm?” That last was directed at Hal, who smiled easily and touched Ned’s free hand with his own.

“And you _never_ thought to mention this before?” Falstaff asked.

“That was all me,” Ned said. “Didn’t want his reputation to get ruined any more than it already was.”

“I swear you’re more like a nanny than a boyfriend sometimes.”

“Dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.”

Falstaff hummed. It was not an encouraging sound.

“So I take it you’re living together?” he asked, sounding rather unimpressed. Hal and Ned looked at each other.

“Well… the creep is beginning, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hal said finally. He waved a hand dismissively. “He bunks over, stuff starts appearing. You know.” Ned’s eyes flicked to Hal’s, whose own gaze shifted immediately forward again.

“Will you stop making eyes at each other?” Falstaff snapped. He snorted. “The things I have to put up with, at my time of life too.” Hal grinned, a little bemusedly.

“You don’t have to put up with anything, Jack,” he said. “In fact, if you don’t like it, you can carry your guts directly out of our flat. You invited yourself anyway,” he added, before taking a sip of beer.

“Nono, you misunderstand me,” Falstaff said quickly. “It’s not _that_ that I’m -- I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

“Surprised by what, Jack?” Hal’s smile never left his face, but something glinted in his eyes, as if he were waiting for something.

“Hal…” Falstaff paused, trying to find the right words. “You’re a prince. And on top of all of that, you’re a very trusting boy. I wonder if -- it could be very easy to manipulate you.” He paused, taking in the faces of his audience. Ned set his jaw and found his hand clenching his beer. He glanced at his friend. Hal’s smile had slipped until his face was nothing but a cold, expressionless mask -- beautiful, but void of feeling, except for a look of contempt in the eyes. “You’d be very easy to use,” Falstaff finished. “There. That’s what I came to say.”

There was dead, dead silence. Ned stared at him. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. There was no way to articulate the sheer rage that had risen within him.

“What are you trying to imply,” Hal said finally and for once Ned could believe that he was royalty.

“I only --”

“No.” Hal got to his feet, putting his drink on the coffee table. “I know what you were trying to say. And it’s _bullshit_.” His voice echoed off the walls.

“I’m only saying that you need to be careful, Hal,” Falstaff said in a placating tone. “Not everyone is acting in your best interests.” His eyes flicked to Ned for a nanosecond.

Ned flew to his feet.

_“If you think that I’m doing this for influence like I’m some fucking gold digger or something --”_

_“We’ve been together for five months and you think I can’t tell if I’m being played or not --”_

_“Just because my family’s bankrupt does not mean that I’m after him for his money!”_

Falstaff had shrunk back in his chair, somehow alarmed by the vehemence with which he’d been attacked.

“Out,” Hal growled. “Out. I want you out now.”

“I only --”

A glance from the prince made him stop. Grabbing his jacket, he left the flat quickly. The door slammed loudly in the sudden silence. Both men stared at the place Falstaff had just vacated. Ned looked down, suddenly aware of the wet sensation on his clothes. He’d spilled his drink as he stood. The glass lay behind him on the carpet, the remaining beer sinking into the fabric.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said, groaning. “That’ll stain.”

“Nono, it’s okay.” Hal was still staring at the chair. “Not your fault.”

“Hal?” Hal finally looked up and saw the stains.

“Oh, shit.” He ran into the bathroom and grabbed a roll of paper towels. They both dropped to the floor and began tearing sheets off to soak up the beer.

“Hey, I’ll do this. You change.” Hal waved him away. “You can borrow some more of my clothes. And hey --” he caught Ned’s wrist as he tried to stand. “I’m sorry about his.”

“What? How is this your fault?”

“I make you do this for one night and now you’re getting dragged through the mud. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ned said and meant it. He squeezed his hand. “I honestly don’t mind. This is… everything that’s…” He sighed. What was there to say? He stood up and gently extracted his hand from Hal’s. “I’ll be right back --” he added over his shoulder and stopped. Hal had gone back to mopping up the carpet, so he didn’t see when Ned went back to kneel in front of him.

No more thinking.

He caught Hal’s chin in his hand, tilted his face up, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

It ended quickly and Hal looked away, swallowing hard.

Ned went to the bedroom.

_What have I done? Oh my God, what have I done? He wanted to vomit. How could I be so stupid? So fucking stupid?_

_Of course he’s not interested._

_Of course._

After a minute, he remembered what he was supposed to be doing and began pulling off his wet clothes.

At what point, he wondered as he pulled on one of Hal’s t-shirts, did a fake relationship become a real one? He had to wonder how many lies had actually been told. Someone had said to him once that the best lies had grains of truth to them. Now he began to understand what they had meant.

Leaving his wet clothes in the adjoining bathroom, he headed back into the den to find Hal finishing with the mess. He silently helped him throw out the damp paper towels, dreading whatever was coming next. There was no walking away now. No more pretending. He’d kissed him in private. Where it mattered. There would have to be a fallout.

Finally, once Hal had finished washing his hands in the kitchen sink, it came.

“I’ve been thinking,” Hal said, wiping off his hands.

“Yeah?” He felt his stomach twist itself into another knot.

“Yeah. About lying. Honestly, it feels like I’ve been doing too much of it lately,” he said. The dish towel hit the counter with a soft thump.

“Have you?” asked Ned uncertainly.

“Yeah. I mean, I must live, like, a triple life by now. Court me, bar me, and --” he hesitated, “-- relationship me.”

“Okay.” Ned braced himself. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, but the knowing wouldn’t make it any easier.

“I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like -- I can’t do this anymore.” Hal didn’t seem to want to meet his eyes. “I need to have something real in my life. I need to cut down.”

“To end this,” Ned said softly. Hal looked up at him finally, brow furrowed.

“Is that really what you want?”

“Look,” Ned waved his hands, trying to ignore how awful he felt all of the sudden. “You need to figure things out. It’s not like we were even real anyway.” He swallowed. Hal just looked at him. “And anyway, it would make sense after everything with Falstaff and--” he stopped short. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. I just want you to be okay.” He turned sharply and walked into the den.

He could get through. This was the end of their lie, not of their friendship. But it wouldn’t be the same. Now that he knew what he’d be missing. And Hal would take more girls to bed and Ned would probably take whoever he wanted, but the thing was, now they’d both _know_. It was the knowledge that would hurt. And God, he just didn’t want to stop.

There it was. The sad truth of it all.

He didn’t want to stop.

He was roused from his increasingly turbulent thoughts by Hal, knocking softly on the wall.

“Er, Ned?” he asked softly.

“What?” He couldn’t muster the strength to sound remotely happy.

“I hate to destroy the drama of the moment,” he said tentatively, “but… I wasn’t actually thinking of ending it.”

Ned stared at him, uncomprehending.

“What -- what are you saying?”

“Well --” Hal looked down at his bare feet, hair falling over his eyes. The next time he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “I was… I guess I was wondering if we could take the fake our of our fake relationship.”

Ned stared at him still. There was no way. Not with the way they’d blown up at each other that night. Hal -- he didn’t want this. This was the last thing he needed. He was the prince, he couldn’t do this.

“But you want to stop and that’s okay,” Hal plunged on. “That’s okay too.”

“But… I thought that’s what you wanted…” Ned said in confusion. “The way you were talking. Don’t you want to end it before --” he didn’t continue, allowing Hal to fill the gap as he wanted.

“Well, no,” Hal said, laughing nervously. “I -- it’s up to you,” he said finally. “I know what I want as of right now. And I mean… when you kissed me… just now… I thought you knew too.”

Ned looked at him, taking him in. Still shirtless, his expression for once without confidence. His hands were shaking. He was afraid, Ned realized. Afraid of what his answer would be.

_I’ve made a prince tremble._

“Please talk to me, Ned. If you say no, I promise I won’t bring it up again. Friends.” Hal shrugged tightly. “Nothing weird.”

Ned stood up and went to him.

“You really think that we could just go back to being friends?” he asked softly. Their hands twisted and caught each other, sending jolts like electricity over his skin.

“No,” Hal whispered. “This is too crazy. I guess… okay, maybe I don’t know what I want. I mean, not long term. Fuck, you know what I’m like,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I suck at commitment. But please. Just now, right this minute -- fuck this.” Their mouths came together with a force that surprised them both.  They pulled each other closer and Ned took a step back, coming against the side of the couch. Hal’s hands ran over his arse and down to his thighs. His grip tightened and Ned found himself being deposited on the back of the couch as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. He bit into the flesh of Hal’s throat, not three centimeters from the earlier bite. Hal moaned out loud and, without warning, picked him up again and began backing away, their mouths still roving over each other.

“Where are we going?” Ned asked between kisses.

“Bedroom.”

“Sounds great.”

Hal couldn’t carry him all the way -- Ned was half-dropped outside the bedroom door and pulled inside.

“Come on.”

Hal picked him up again and then dumped him unceremoniously on the bed. Clothes ripped away as quickly as possible. Finesse had no place here -- skin was all that either of them cared about.

… and maybe they were taking this too fast, in fact, they probably were, but how could he bring himself to stop it now? This was new, completely foreign. What if this was wrong? What if this had the opposite effect to the one they expected? What if…

_Sometimes, Ned thought, you have run before you can walk._

Climbing on after him, Hal bent down to kiss him roughly. His erection was pressing into Ned’s thigh.

“Holy shit,” he murmured as he pulled away. “We’re really doing this. I mean, this is actually happening.”

“Yeah.” Ned ran a hand over his cheek. “Look at us.” His hand slid along his side and settled on his flank.

“This is crazy.”

“Come and get me,” he whispered in reply and pulled Hal onto himself as the last of his inhibitions burned away.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are held (some even outside of the bedroom), Doll brings news, and Ned has concerns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Sorry if that was a longer wait than usual, schoolwork has been eating me alive. As always, thanks to nobodytoldthehorse for prompting!

Early afternoon light filtered its way through the blinds and the curtains of Hal’s room onto his bed, where both he and Ned were sprawled in a tangle of limbs. Ned played with Hal’s hair absently as the boy lay his head on his chest. 

“Well, that happened,” Hal breathed with a tired laugh. Ned joined in after a moment. 

“Your neighbors are going to be so pissed.”

“Meh.” Hal waved a hand. “They’re used to it.”

“So,” Ned said languidly. “On a scale from one to ten, how straight do you feel?”

“I dunno,” Hal said after a moment. He rolled over so they were nestled together, Ned turning to face him. “But I’m pretty sure it’s in the negatives.” He ran his lips over the bridge of Ned’s nose, grinning at his lazy _you’re stupid._

“We should meet each other again.”

“What?” Ned propped himself up on one arm, giving him a confused look.

“Now that we’ve hit the home run, so to speak.” Hal stuck out a hand. “Hello, how are you.”

Ned rolled his eyes.

“You are so stupid, I swear to god.” But he was smiling. “I’m doing fine. And you?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Hal leaned forward to kiss him. “Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

* * *

An hour later, both of them were in the kitchen as Hal called Doll and canceled their plans for that night, his dressing gown hanging loosely off one shoulder.

“Yeah, I know it’s sudden. Just, uh,” He caught Ned’s eyes from where he sat on the kitchen counter, wrapped Hal’s other dressing gown. “Something came up.” Ned snorted. “Yep, yep. Mm-hm. Will do.” With a laugh, he ended the call and deposited the phone on the counter beside Ned. “Well, that’s our evening secured. In the words of Doll -- have fun and use protection.” They kissed each other, Ned pressing his lips harder and harder against Hal’s to ascertain their realness. 

“Fuck,” Hal murmured, over and over again. His fingers were already fumbling with the strings of Ned’s dressing gown, their lips burning with the friction. 

“Hey. Heyheyhey.” Ned finally broke away, putting his hands over Hal’s to stop their moving. “We should talk this through.”

“I don’t know if I want to,” he said. He made to kiss Ned’s jaw, but Ned pulled back just a little. 

“You know we should, Hal,” he said. “We have to figure this out. More than other... well, you know. Our situation’s a bit more delicate, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” Hal knelt down in front of the counter, staring up at him with large blue eyes. “Please don’t make me think about this right now, Ned.”

“We’re going to have to at some point.”

“But it doesn’t have to be now, does it?” He laid his hands on Ned’s thighs, making a clear offer. “I feel good right now. And that’s not going to last if we try and be serious. We can do that later. For now...” 

Ned shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Okay,” he relented. “For now. But on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“We don’t do this in the kitchen.” 

“Aw, where’s your sense of adventure?” Hal said, even as he straightened up. 

“I have a sense of adventure,” Ned replied, sliding off the counter. “I also have a sense of hygiene.”

Hal grinned and grabbed his hand, and Ned let himself be pulled along into the hallway. 

What Hal lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. Breathing hard, Ned leaned his head back against the wall and tried not to worry so much. It would all be fine. Just fine.

After that, Ned’s mind went white, his fingers twisting sharply in Hal’s hair.

* * *

 

Making dinner was a chaste affair, mostly because Hal remembered Ned’s insistence and didn’t try to start anything. 

“You wanted to talk,” he said, “but I don’t think I’m ready to have the conversations you are. Let’s just talk about ourselves.”

Ned grinned, washing out some glasses. 

“Like what?”

“Like...” Hal shrugged. “Your parents’ religion.”

“They’re Episcopalian, you should know that.”

“You’d be amazed at how much you don’t know about a person,” Hal pointed out. “For instance. I don’t know what your favorite book is.”

“Yeah, our conversations never _do_ get around to literature, do they?”

“Well? What’s your favorite book?”

Ned grinned, drying off the final glass. 

“Song of Achilles,” he said. “What can I say, I’m weak for mythological gay men. You?”

“Don’t have one,” Hal said. “I hate having to choose between things.”

“You’ll have to do it at some point.” Ned grinned at him. “Off the top of your head.”

“Ned, I can’t just pick a book off the top of my head!”

“Okay, then what was the last one you read?”

“Hannibal Rising.” Hal shrugged with distaste. “To be honest, that one wasn’t even in my top ten. Now ask me a question. Something you don’t know about me.”

It kept up throughout dinner. For once, they didn’t watch anything after eating, instead retiring to Hal’s bedroom. They were still talking as they both flopped on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

“... Hal, I went to university with you. I was your bloody roommate. We’ve been fucking on and off for pretty much the last five hours. I _know_ your kinks.” 

“Fair enough.” Hal rolled onto his stomach, propping his head up on his hands. “Er… okay, you’ve probably mentioned this before, but I can’t remember, so. How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

Ned snorted at the memory.

“Sixteen,” he said. Hal stared. 

“What the fuck. So you actually have a year on me? I mean, in terms of sexual activity?”

“Looks that way, yeah.”

Hal sat up completely, wrapping his dressing-gown more securely around himself. The evenings and nights were turning colder. 

“Okay, storytime,” he said firmly. Ned shrugged, shifting so he was angled towards him. 

“Not much to tell, really. I was young, my maths tutor was hot. It was pretty much inevitable.”

“Wow.” After a moment, Hal added, “Boy or girl or none of the above?”

“Boy.”

Hal grinned and gave a low whistle. “Straight out of the gate.”

Nodding, Ned sat up and leaned back against the backboard. 

“My parents were astonished by how dedicated I was to learning trigonometry.” Hal snorted and moved so he was sitting directly beside him. Their thighs pressed together easily and, from his vantage point, Ned could see several of the love bites that he’d inflicted throughout the day. One of them was near enough on his neck to his ear that it would be impossible to hide. The thought gave him a small thrill -- _mine. Mine mine mine._ He himself was covered in his own set of bites and scratches. One spot on his shoulder, where Hal had sank his teeth and simply held on, still throbbed a little. It would probably leave a bruise. 

_Mine mine mine._

_I hope._

His thoughts were fortunately interrupted by Hal, who had started kissing his throat. Sighing and feeling a familiar rush of heat in his belly, he arched his back and let Hal continue, up the side of his neck, along his jaw, pausing to suck on his earlobe. Ned felt his entire body shudder and turned his face to brush his lips beneath Hal’s right eye. Hal sighed and moved his mouth to Ned’s ear as a whole. His breath was hot on his skin. 

“You should fuck me,” he whispered. In a moment he was back against the pillows, Ned kissing him full on the mouth, hands on either side of his head. 

“You’re… okay with that?” he asked when he finally came up for air. 

“Yeah.” Hal made short work of their dressing gown strings. He looked up and met Ned’s gaze completely. “Take me apart. Show me how it feels.”

And what could Ned do but give Hal what he wanted? He was a lost cause. Whatever last inhibitions he’d had had come crashing down several hours earlier in the living room. He was losing himself in this, and couldn’t be persuaded to give a damn. Not with Hal just a room away, showering as he’d told him to.

It had gotten dark outside and as Ned stared at the window, rain pouring down outside, he heard the bathroom door open. He grinned to himself as Hal padded into the bedroom. He hadn’t toweled off, Ned realized as the prince slid naked into his arms, his hair dripping.

“You smell nice,” Ned murmured and dragged him the rest of the way down. 

They almost missed the phone call, Hal’s moans were growing so loud. Through the blaze of his own pleasure, Ned was dimly aware of Hal’s mobile switching to voicemail, but he paid it no mind -- Hal was so close and Ned wasn’t that much of an asshole. 

His head launched backward against the pillow as he hissed, mouth open, and even as the phone went off again Ned kept his rhythm and placed his lips on Hal’s, breathing in his every sound. Both of them heard it that time, but Hal curled his hands over Ned’s arse in a wordless command. 

Neither of them lasted much longer.

“I think… a phone went off?” Hal managed at last after Ned had collapsed beside him. 

“Hm? Oh yeah, twice.”

“Dresser table,” Hal said. At Ned’s skeptical look, he added, “Do you honestly expect me to walk after that?”

“Point taken.”

Ned got up and retrieved the phone.

“Let’s see,” he said, sitting back down on the bed. “One, no, _two_ voicemails from Doll -- Jesus, it’s seven o’clock?”

“What are the voicemails?”

Ned tossed him his phone and Hal called in. He cranked up the volume so Ned could listen as well.

_“Hi, Doll here! So, I don’t know if you all have been on the internet at all or if you’re still caught up with whatever fucking_ amazing _sex you must be having right now --_ ” Hal waggled his eyebrows at Ned, “ _\-- but you might want to ‘cause, er, some stuff has happened.”_ The mirth in Hal’s eyes died immediately. “ _... yeah, just go on Twitter and --”_ The voicemail cut off and immediately Hal hit the second one.

_“Right, fuck. Back in business. Yeah. So. Go on Twitter and you’ll see what I mean. It’s getting pretty crazy.”_

The moment Doll’s voice cut out, Hal was on his phone and heading to Twitter. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling --” he said. His fingers halted and he swallowed. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Ned came around so he was beside him and could look at the screen over his shoulder.

The first tweet he saw was a picture of them kissing. It must have been from the first night at the club -- Ned recognized his clothes, as well as the shock registering in his body language. Experience saw to it that he didn’t read the caption. Hal clearly had, though. His mouth had formed a thin line, but he kept scrolling. The internet was having a minor explosion, it seemed. All the same photograph. The man with the camera had either been too quick for Hal, or someone else gotten the shot. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was all out now. 

After a few silent minutes of scrolling, Ned put his hand on Hal’s shoulder. 

“Come on,” he said gently. “Why don’t we change the sheets and try to get some rest? Hal?” Hal reluctantly put the phone down and nodded. His face was otherwise unreadable. 

When Ned returned from throwing the stained sheets into the wash, he found Hal sitting on the freshly-made bed, his dressing gown from earlier draped across his shoulders, the phone back in his hand.

“Hal,” he began but knew that there was no use arguing. In the end, he settled for, “It’s going to get better.”

“You’d think that these people would have more to do with their time than freak out about what I’m doing,” Hal said finally. “Like, why do they _care_?” 

“Probably because you’re the hot, bad boy prince of Wales,” Ned said. “And probably because you’re one of the first royals of this generation to be openly queer.”

“It’s only been a few hours and I already wish they’d stop,” Hal muttered bitterly. “But I know they’ll be at this for awhile.”

Ned nodded and leaned back against Hal’s pillows. Hal himself rested his head on Ned’s chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around his torso. 

“You’re going to be fine,” he said. “This will blow over pretty soon. It’ll be fine.”

“Sometimes I wish I was just Hal,” Hal said softly. “That I didn’t have to be anyone else.” He looked up at Ned for what felt like the first time in hours. “Do you wish I was just Hal?”

“What I wish is that you would stop stressing,” Ned told him, after a moment. “Losing your mind over this is isn’t going to help you in the long run.” 

“I’m not losing my mind,” Hal said, with a shade of his old self. “I’m just mildly concerned, that’s all.”

Ned shook his head, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“You’re stupid.”

“You like it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

They stayed that way for the better part of an hour, the phone continuing to flicker with new tweets. Hal reloaded the page each time.

_So this is what being with him means,_ he thought, watching the same photo go flying across the screen over and over again. _We will never have privacy again. Except now. Now is golden._ Hal’s head dipped -- he’d dozed off in his arms. _In all my years of living, when did I ever get a sign that_ this _was going to happen?_

Hal woke with a jerk and then sighed, burrowing back into Ned’s chest.

“When I get a text, wake me up,” he said sleepily. 

“Okay, babe.” The lack of any lie in that sentence was so delicious. In spite of everything, Ned wanted to give a victory cry. “G’night.”

“‘Night.”

* * *

 

They were both woken at about three in the morning by the vibrating of Hal’s phone. Hal groaned and turned over, clearly intent on ignoring it.

“Hal. _Hal._ ”

Ned shook his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. Sighing, he reached for Hal’s phone. 

“Hal,” he repeated. He squinted at the bright screen. “Hal, you have a text from somebody named Everything’s Gone To Shit.”

“Oh fuck,” Hal muttered, his voice muffled by the pillows. He groaned again. “I guess I have to get up, then.” Slowly, he dragged himself out of bed and stretched his muscles. Ned put the phone in his hand. He stared blearily at the text. “Yep. I have to go.”

“At three in the morning?”

“My PR people are yelling at me.” Hal went to his dresser and began searching for some clean clothes. “Got no choice.” He glanced back at Ned, who was watching him from the bed. It was still raining outside, and the sound of it was soft on the apartment roof. “Wish I could stay,” he added regretfully.

“Wish you could too.”

He watched Hal tug on his clothes, his skin flashing from white to shadow in the slated moonlight that poured from between the blinds of his windows.

“By the way,” Hal said. “I forgot to mention this, but you look amazing in my clothes.”

“Thanks.” Ned got up and took his hands. “Kind of amazing, actually, since I was swimming in that thing.” He started doing up the buttons of his shirt for him, Hal’s fingers brushing his wrists. 

“I love it when you do stuff like this,” Hal whispered, so quietly and so quickly that Ned nearly missed it. He looked up from the buttons at Hal’s face, but he’d lifted his chin and was staring at the opposite wall past Ned’s head. Ned decided not to mention it. He finished the buttons and kissed his cheek softly. Hal pulled him into a full kiss in response, and they amused themselves for a while with the touch of each other’s lips on their own, Hal slipping his tongue into his mouth. His hands were beginning a now-familiar descent downward -- Ned caught them. 

“Okay, you’ve got to get to Buckingham.”

“Shame,” Hal muttered, giving him one final kiss.

“Get lost,” Ned said, pushing him away with a laugh. “I say that with the utmost affection, but get lost.” 

“How heartless you are.” Hal grinned and pulled him into another one. “You can stick around if you want,” he murmured. “Don’t know when I’ll be back, though, so if you want to leave you can. You do you. And I know you know all my passwords, so the world is your oyster.”

“Okay, Hal. You can fuss later. You need to head out.” As if punctuating his last, Hal’s phone started vibrating again with another text from Everything’s Gone To Shit.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

A final, deep kiss, and then Hal had grabbed his phone and was heading out the bedroom door, trying to text at the same time. Two minutes later, when Ned looked out the window, he was on the sidewalk hailing a cab, his jacket collar turned up to hide his face.

He went back to sleep and tried to ignore the new chill in the sheets.

* * *

He made breakfast in the morning, filling the apartment with the scent of pancakes. A note had been slid under the door at some point yesterday: _Keep the bloody noise down!_ \-- written in an untidy scrawl. He saved it, knowing Hal would enjoy that when he got back. 

Halfway through washing out he dishes, he heard his own phone go off. Immediately he seized it from its place on the counter. 

“Yeah,” he said, not bothering to check the contact.

“Ned, how’s he doing?” It was Doll. Ned did his best to control his disappointment. 

“I dunno, he left for Buckingham at like three this morning. Haven’t heard from him since. Heard anything?”

“Nothing yet,” she said. “I’m keeping an eye out, though. How was he last night?”

Ned sat back on the counter, leaving the dishes completely.

“I think he was pretty shaken up. I mean, I don’t think he really knows how to define himself just yet. And they’ll be putting him through the wringer, probably, and -- it’ll be rough for him.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Doll said. “Still, make sure he’s okay when he gets home --”

“You think I won’t?”

“-- Oh no, I know you will,” she said. “You’ve got it too badly to do anything else. But yeah, he has this habit of compartmentalizing his feelings. He’ll seem fine, but on the inside... he won’t be.”

“I know,” Ned said darkly. “I’ve seen him do it.” There was a pause. “Doll?”

“Yeah, babe?”

Something had been pressing at his mind for the last few hours. Now that he was bringing it up, the possibility seemed more real than ever. 

Swallowing his anxiety, he asked, “Is it possible that he’d ditch me?”

Doll was silent for a long time.

“Ned, are you really so insecure in your relationship with him?”

“No! It just -- just hear me out,” he said. “It’s... if he becomes king... he won’t be able to do this anymore. It’s not just going to be me. It’s going to be you and Quickly and... this could go really bad.” He cleared his throat. “And right now, I mean -- this would be a perfect time to sever those ties, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Doll conceded eventually. “But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

“No, but it has to, though,” Ned insisted. “Because think about it -- how could he keep his people’s confidence if he’s--” he groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Why did I decide to fuck the Prince of Wales?”

There was another long silence. Ned got the feeling that Doll was trying in vain to think of something reassuring to say. 

“It’s going to be fine, Ned.”

Ned swallowed hard and mumbled a goodbye. 

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Maybe they were just meant to fuck a few times and then go their separate ways -- Hal to court and his destiny, and Ned... somewhere. He’d had a vague dream to go into journalism once but his current job, interning at a newspaper office, didn’t seem to be carrying him any closer to that. 

What if Hal left him?

_He sounded positive this morning,_ he told himself. _I’m probably overreacting._

_But it would still make a lot of sense._

* * *

 

Aside from a few texts from Doll, his phone remained disquietingly silent. Ned wandered around the flat -- it was his day off -- and tried and failed to watch Netflix. At a loss for something to do, he began to clean up the flat, down to polishing the windows. Lunch, then dinner, still nothing. 

_It’s fine. This is fine. This doesn’t mean anything._

He’d just begun the washing up from dinner when his phone rang. He seized it and took the call. 

“Hello?”

“Ned!” Hal’s voice came in clearly from the other end and Ned breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank god,” he said. “I felt like they murdered you or something.”

“Nope, I’m still around.” He heard Hal grin. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I wouldn’t want to.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, you _can_ be a struggle,” Ned allowed. “How are you doing?”

“Well, I’m about ready to drop I’m so tired, but aside from that, I think I’m doing pretty good. I mean, there’s this press conference that I’m due for in, like, six minutes that I’m _really_ not feeling good about. But, you know.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Yeah, it’s just --” Hal gave a frustrated sigh. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped several notches in volume. “Er. They want me to get up on a platform and, er, talking about my sexuality, and I’m -- I’m not feeling good with that.”

“Have you told them you’re not?”

“Ned, it’s out of my hands,” Hal said shortly. “I’m supposed to say what I’ve got to say -- that is, what they’ve _given_ me to say, seriously I’m looking at the index card now and it’s like a fucking fill-in-the-blank -- and then answer the question as vaguely as possible.”

“Babe,” Ned began, but Hal kept going. Ned let him, it was clear he needed to rant. 

“ _I_ barely know what I am. How can they expect me to --” he started again. “I’m not ready to talk about this stuff to anyone. Let alone a bunch of bloodhound reporters.” 

“Shh, I know. I know.”

“And there are going to be people filming and...” Hal groaned. “I’m kind of freaking out. I’m not ready for this and they’re making me do it anyway.”

“What can I do for you?” Ned asked gently. 

“Er... don’t look it up?” He gave a mirthless huff of laughter. “Honestly, don’t. Who I am in the press room... it’s not me. It’s --” He paused and then said indistinctly, “Yes, thank you. I’ll be there. Sorry,” he said, more clearly now. “Listen, I have to go in a minute. Just, er --”

“Don’t watch?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Ned could hardly blame him. He’d wanted to throw up just from telling his older brother the first time he dated a boy. He couldn’t imagine what Hal had been going through, all since three in the morning. He could give him this. 

“Thanks. Oh, and Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“It _is_ questioning, right? When you don’t know what you are yet?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, even though he knew Hal couldn’t see it. “What time will you be getting back?”

“I’ll hazard a guess and say an hour?”

“Okay.”

“I gotta go.”

“Okay. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be just fine,” Ned was speaking as quickly as he could. “I’ll be there when you get back. Thinking of you.”

“Bye,” Hal said abruptly and hung up.

Pushing aside his concern about Hal’s sharp parting -- _he’s stressed, it’s fine, right?_ \-- he took a deep breath, went to the phone, and ordered a pizza with meatballs and peppers, the way Hal liked it. 

* * *

 

The pizza itself had only arrived a few minutes before when the door opened and Hal staggered in. The door shutting heavily behind him, he sank down into one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing at his face. Ned all but ran to him, giving him a quick hug. 

“How’re you doing?” he asked once they’d separated. 

“Tired. Starving,” Hal said flatly. “Haven’t eaten all day.”

“I have pizza,” Ned went for the pizza box, depositing it in front of Hal. “Here. Knock yourself out.” Hal nearly fainted as he inhaled the garlicky scene coming from the box. 

“That smells fucking amazing. I could kiss you. In fact,” he added, putting an arm around Ned’s waist and pulling him closer, “I will.” Their lips met an ease that still surprised Ned. But it didn’t last long -- Hal was hungry. 

Once Hal had put away two slices and paused for breath, Ned asked, “So... how did the conference go?”

“Well,” he said, “It happened. That’s really the best that can be said. By the way, I made sure to keep your name out of it. Didn’t want you to get dragged.”

“Thanks.”

Hal motioned him over, patting his thighs. Wrapping his arms around his neck, Ned sat on his lap, letting him rest his head against his shoulder. 

“How’s your dad taking this?” he added. Hal sighed imperceptibly.

“Well, I’ve told him,” he said, his voice muffled. “Er... he took it better than I expected. He was mostly pissed of because I didn’t say anything before. Sort of let the paparazzi say it for me.” He lapsed into silence.

“You had a row, didn’t you,” Ned said. 

“Yeah,” Hal admitted. He looked up at him. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. If we don’t have row every time we meet, we start to feel kind of distant, you know?”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic about it. Not to me.”

“I’m not being sarcastic!” he insisted. 

“Then why do you sound so defensive?” Hal fell silent. “I know why you do this.”

“Ned --”

“This hurts you a lot more than you’d like us to think.” Hal still didn’t say anything. “You put up this front and I just -- I --” Ned brought his head back, touched his face. “There’s so much about you that I don’t understand.” He sighed heavily as Hal looked away, purposefully avoiding Ned’s gaze. “What was the fight again?”

Hal relaxed a little beneath him, pulling him closer against himself. 

“It was, like, five in the morning, he was tired and now he finds out that the internet is going wild about me and the hot guy I was making out with. Basically, I should have told the family, I should have told my PR people, I should have done about a million other things. I mean, I don’t owe it to them to talk about my sexuality, right?”

“No,” Ned said firmly. “That’s your business.”

“Thanks.” Hal pressed his cheek against Ned’s collarbone and made a sound like a cat purring as Ned began to pulse his shoulders. His muscles were ridiculously tight. “Oh, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“He wants to meet you?”

“He _what?!”_ Ned pulled away sharply. 

“Yeah, you’re coming to dinner sometime next week.” 

“No.” Ned shook his head frantically. “No fucking way. I am _not_ \-- he’s the fucking King of England, I’m --”

“Kind of the prince’s boyfriend?” Hal suggested.

“Well, yes, but he’s not going to --” Ned stopped short. “Hold on. Wait. Did you just...?”

“That’s alright, isn’t it?” Hal asked. “I mean, I thought that since, you know, everything that happened yesterday. You _are_ alright with that, right? ‘Cause I already basically said that we’re involved at the conference.”

“You did?”

“Please tell me that was the right thing to do.”

“Yeah.” Ned was stunned, probably more than he should have been, when taking yesterday into account. “Yeah, that’s... that’s what I want.”

“Okay!” Hal said with considerable relief. “You had me worried there.”

“So... we _are_ a thing, right?” Ned asked. “I’m not, like, going to get dropped.”

“Dropped?” Hal’s brow furrowed.

“It’s just that... I mean... I’ve known you for a while... and we both know that, I mean, with you being who you are and me being who I am...”

“Ned?”

“It’s just that... I know you have commitment issues.” 

There. That was putting an understatement on it, really. Hal paused, his mouth forming a brief _“oh.”_

There was a pause that went on for far too long. Ned felt his stomach twist and untwist. 

“Er... I’d like to try?” he said at long last. “Like, this isn’t just about sex, I actually do feel something for you.” Their eyes locked. “Er.” He swallowed. “You know. If I didn’t then... well... you’d know.”

“Okay,” Ned said finally. He took his hand, gently splaying out his fingers to match his own. “Okay. Enough said.” They sat there, content with this casual contact. 

“My PR people,” Hal murmured. “They’ve ordered me to take you out places. Coffee shops, restaurants. Wholesome places like that. They want to give the paparazzos something positive to photograph. Basically, we have to make this look as adorable and saccharine as we can.”

“Sounds familiar,” Ned murmured, grinning. 

“I swear. I still feel like we’re faking this, sometimes.”

Ned pressed closer, running his hands through his hair. 

“How can I change that?” he whispered, shifting in his lap. In answer, Hal kissed the corner of his mouth, breathing out against his cheek. The yellow light of the dining room threw their shadows into sharp relief on the kitchen wall -- two figures twisting lazily in the evening quiet as their lips met again and again and again.

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned meets the parent, things gets said, and Hal is forced to consider his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, here we are! We're complete at last.  
> Thanks as ever to nobodytoldthehorse for making the original prompt for this. I have no idea where the rest of this came from, and I have no idea if this is anything like you were expecting, but I hope you've enjoyed the ride!

“This is crazy.” Ned clenched and unclenched his hands as he leaned back against the cab seat. “I mean, this can’t actually be happening.”

“Relax, you’ve done the whole meet-the-parents thing before, right?” Hal said from beside him. “It’s just like that.”

“Yeah, exactly the same except your dad is, you know --” he halted, remembering the cabbie. “You know.”

“He’s just another guy,” Hal said. “He just happens to rule the country. Bit of bore, to be frank,” he added.

“Like, what if he doesn’t like me and has me executed for treason or something?” Ned went on. “This is crazy. I don’t want to do this.”

“ _Ned_.” Hal laid a hand on his knee, squeezing. “He’s not going to eat you, I promise.” He raised his voice to speak to the cabbie. “Just drop us off here.”

They walked down the street together, both of their collars turned up. It was early evening, the sky just beginning to darken. The weather forecast had predicted snow and, as Ned walked, he thought he could taste it on the air. They held hands as they walked, their other hands stuffed into jacket pockets. They’d gone for semi-formal that night -- a black button-down and slacks for Hal, the sleeves pushed up the elbows, and a button-down and tie for Ned. Apparently, Hal’s father had no love of flamboyance or extravagance. This had not stopped Hal from lining his eyes, Ned noticed. He’d been teaching him some of the finer points of makeup.

Walking through the gates of Buckingham was a surreal feeling, compounded by the fact that they didn’t stop holding hands. Ned felt as though he were committing some terrible crime.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to have a bodyguard or something?” he asked.

“Oh, I do. But I pay him off so that’s not a problem.”

“Hal, what if someone assassinates you?” Ned exclaimed. Hal waved him off.

“Okay, number one, I am terrible at being a prince. There is, like, nothing to gain from my death. Two,” he added, “you’re always there, so I don’t need any more protection, do I?”

 

The family part of the palace was suprisingly homey, in a filthy-rich kind of way. Hal led him comfortably through the halls, one hand firmly at the small of Ned’s back. Whether that was to reassure him or to make sure he didn’t run, Ned didn’t know. 

“I don’t like this,” he muttered. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Hal came to a stop and put his hands on his shoulders. “It’s just for tonight, yeah? Not even tonight, just this evening.”

“The end of the evening is a long way off,” Ned said darkly.

“Ned, you’re going to be okay,” Hal squeezed his shoulders again, leaned in, and kissed him softly. 

“We’re going to regret this,” Ned murmured against his mouth. 

“Re _lax._ ” 

A cough made them leap about three feet apart. Standing in the nearby doorway was a boy only a few years younger than Hal. They had very little in common, but Ned thought he could detect something of Hal in the kid’s nose. Ned squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to be somewhere else. 

“You’re late,” the kid said. Recovering magnificently, Hal grinned and put his arm back around Ned, who was still wishing he could melt into the floorboards. 

“Nice to see you too, John,” he said. “Ned, this is my little brother.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Ned said, remembering his manners. John took his proferred hand and shook it cautiously.

“Likewise,” he said shortly. He turned back to Hal. “We’re all in the living room if you’d like to join us.” With that, he turned and headed back the way he’d just come from. 

“Well, somebody needs to take his head out of his arse,” Hal muttered. “Shouldn’t be too hard on him, though,” he added, as he took Ned’s hand and they followed John. “He was actually a pretty sweet kid once. And then he went to higher ed and turned into what you see before you. Not his fault really, that much studying will do that to you.”

“I heard that,” John said. 

They passed through a few more corridors and finally reached a narrow, unassuming wooden door. John went on ahead, but Hal waited a moment.

“Okay, they’re probably all in there,” he said in an undertone. “You ready?”

“No, but we’re never going to get this done otherwise.”

“That’s the spirit.” With a quick glance at a besuited man who stood impassively nearby, Hal pressed his lips against Ned’s forehead. “Shall we?” A muscle in his jaw had tightened and Ned had known him for too long not to know that Hal only did that when he was uncomfortable. He gently squeezed his hand. 

“Yeah, let’s do this. How bad can it be?”

Four other men were sitting in the parlor they entered -- three younger, and one significantly older-looking man with a grizzled beard. 

_Holy shit, that’s the king. That’s the fucking king of England,_ Ned thought. _Why am I here? I’m not supposed to be here._

The king stood with an unreadable epression. Unsure of what to do in the awkward silence that smothered the room, Ned glanced out his periphery at Hal. Was he supposed to kneel, wait fo some kind of fanfare...? 

“No need to stand on ceremony,” the king said finally. His voice was rough, like he’d smoked a lot of cigarettes in his lifetime. “You’re a part of the family.” Behind him, John shifted from one foot to the other. 

“Thank you, sir.” Ned swallowed, hoping that he’d chosen the right honorific. The king did not correct him. _Sir_ it was, then. Hal cleared his throat. 

“Er, these are my brothers. John, you’ve already met. This is Thomas and Humphrey.” Two younger boys nodded taciturnly and Ned noted that Hal’s was clearly the family nose. 

“Pleased to meet you all,” Ned said. The king sat back down in his armchair and Hal and Ned took his cue. 

“Dinner will be served in a few minutes,” the king said. Ned nodded, not sure what to say to this. The couch he and Hal were seated on felt stiff, the temperature in the room several degrees too cold. Nobody seemed to be at ease, not even the king. Ned could hardly blame Hal for wanting to move out. Couldn’t blame him for starting to drink either.

“So... how long have you been together?” Humphrey asked out of the blue. Hal and Ned exchanged glances.

“A few months,” Ned said finally. The king’s voice sounded across from him and he resisted the urge to jump.

“I see. How did you meet?”

“School. We had classes together,” Hal answered from beside him. 

“I see.” They all felt the elephant in the room -- university. The years when Hal had really gone wild. “And Ned, what is it that you do?”

He couldn’t say intern. Not to the king of England.

“I work with a newspaper syndicate,” he said, deciding to keep it vague. The king hummed and Ned fought a desire to ask him what that meant. Was it just him, or had his expression gone a little cold? And then it hit him.

_Shit. I’m part of the press. I’m the enemy._ Jesus _, this is going straight to hell._

How could he have been stupid?

Hal unobtrusively put his arm across the back of the couch, a kind of embrace without being an embrace. His jaw was still set. Ned knew what he’d do in private to help ease his tension -- here, he was lost.

They were saved from any further awkward silences by the news that dinner was ready. And then they were in the dining room. Neither Ned nor Hal sat by the king. That went to John. At least they were sitting together. The bland scent of lamb ribs wafted off the plates. Grace was said, and Ned was surprised to see Hal bowing his head as fervently as the others. He did the same for appearances’ sake. He didn’t need another strike.

Conversation was strained, the topics safe and dull. Ned was subjected to usual parental interrogation, but it didn’t feel too pointed. Even so, his back ached with the effort of keeping it straight. When the conversation -- _thank God_ \-- turned to other things, all Ned was expected to do was nod and smile. The king’s eyes never seemed to leave him though. It was as if he were waiting for him to use the wrong fork or something.

But what never left Ned was the feeling of wrongness. A family was supposed to laugh around the dinnertable. Talk about their days, their plans for tomorrow. It wasn’t supposed to be this _cold._ His relationship with his own famiy was rocky at best, but at least they made no bones about not liking each other. This frigid front they all seemed to be putting on -- even Hal was doing it. He seemed only to be half-listening to what John was saying about his studies. But even then, he seemed to be the only one who was remotely alive. How did a kid _survive_ in this family?

Dessert was wheeled out. That was another thing that grated on his nerves -- the domestics. They were so good at their jobs, Ned had to work to notice them. Dishes would simply appear on the table. 

He stared down at his plate.

_Oh fuck._

It was some kind of parfait. But all Ned could look at were the layers of chocolate. He caught Hal’s gaze pointedly. At first he didn’t seem to get the message. Then it dawned on him. 

“Dad, I thought I told you Ned has a chocolate allergy?” he said accusingly. 

“Really?” To his credit, the king looked legitimately apologetic. “I’m sorry, I’ll send for something else.” The king signaled to one of the domestics, but Ned said quickly,

“Nonono. That’s okay. I’m not really a dessert person anyway.”

“Well, if you’re sure. It’s no trouble.”

“I’m fine,” Ned said emphatically. He didn’t want to seem like a bother. “I really am.”

“Very well, then.” As the nearest domestic whisked his dessert away, Ned wondered if the king had used the same tone of voice when condemning someone to death. Or something. 

In any case, he regretted his decision almost immediately. As the only person without a dessert to occupy himself, he was forced to sit there and watch everyone else eat. Beneath the table, Hal pressed his leg against Ned’s. 

At long last, dinner came to an end. Chairs were pushed back and Hal took him aside.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked in an undertone. Ned shrugged.

“I’d like to be home, but other than that... you?” 

“You said it for me. Sorry about earlier. I thought I’d told him.”

“It’s okay.”

Hal touched the tips of Ned’s fingers. 

“I think there’s still some ice cream left at home. We can finish that off.” Ned grinned, looking down at their hands.

“Sounds good.” 

“ _Harry!_ ” 

Both of them looked up in alarm to see the king looking like thunder. It took Ned a moment to realize he was addressing Hal and, for another wild moment, Ned thought he was angry at them specifically and took an immediate step back. Then he saw the newcomer who stood with the king, a blond man in a suit who looked out of breath and panicky. 

“Dad.”

“Go to my office and get me the number for Percy’s workline. _And_ the Mortimers.” The king’s voice sounded like the barking of a dog. Hal turned and ran for the door without another word to Ned, his footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. His father took no notice, already deep in heated conversation with the newcomer. 

“And _how_ many?” Ned caught before they lowered their voices. John went to him. 

“You may want to leave,” he said quietly.

“So I take it this isn’t normal occurence?”

“Of course not,” John said with a deprecating look. “I have an idea of what’s happened, but, of course, I can’t tell you. Civilians and all that. By the way,” he stepped a little closer. “I need to warn you. I’m not trying to be malicious. I just think you should know -- don’t be fooled. Dad may be about ready to take drastic action against him, but Harry’s bloody devoted to him. You saw him run out of here just now.” For the first time that evening, Ned saw something approaching kindness in John’s eyes. Or perhaps that was pity. “Where it matters, Dad is going always going to take priority.”

Ned swallowed and gave him a tight nod. Fuck. He’d felt actually rather confident in their relationship recently. And now all that was crashing back to the ground. What if he _was_ going to be abandoned? After all, this was his family. It’s not as if he could blame Hal, even if they were cold and fucked-up. If his dad called, if something truly important happened, how could Ned keep him from running to help?

_He’s not mine,_ he thought, and felt his chest grow heavier with the acceptance of it. _There’s a part of him I can never hold on to. I guess I have his wild side, but the man he is underneath all that is beyond my reach._

Hal burst back inside with a leather folder under his arm. He presented it to his father.

“I brought you the full contact book. I figured you’d want it.”

“Just the two numbers would have done,” the king said curtly and, watching from the sidelines, Ned didn’t miss the look of hurt that flashed across Hal’s face. As if sensing his gaze, the king met Ned’s eyes. “I’m terribly sorry, but it would seem we have to cut the evening short,” he said, and looked back down at the open folder. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Ned said, and knew he barely meant a word of it. Hal appeared suddenly at his side, their coats draped over his arm. 

“Home?” he asked, and Ned noticed how pale he looked. 

“Yeah. You okay?” 

“Harry, where are you going?” The king had looked up again. 

“I’m taking Ned home,” he said. 

“And coming back?”

“No, do you want me to?”

The king closed his eyes in exasperation.

“Harry, you should know how important this is. But then again, if you need to ask me that, I suppose you don’t.”

“Dad --”

“You’re an adult. You need to start taking an interest in government policy. This is your life, Harry, like it or not.”

“Oh, so now that I’m an adult I have to do exactly what my dad tells me to,” Hal said sarcastically. “You know, I’m really getting tired of --

“Harry, _stop_ it --”

“-- way you keep brushing me under the rug like, _oh, that’s Henry the faggot, we don’t talk about_ _him --_ ”

“If you think that that’s why I’m --”

“Could you fucking _listen_ to me for once!” Hal exclaimed, his eyes shining. Ned caught his arm.

“I can take a cab,” he said in an undertone. “It’s fine.” Even more quietly, through gritted teeth: “Hal, _please._ It’s _fine_.”

“No, it’s not!” Hal insisted. He looked back at his father, who had turned away, as if trying to count to ten. “I try to do what you want me to do, and you criticize me. _Every goddamn time._ I just want to --” he stopped short. “I’m taking Ned home. And I’m _not_ coming back.”

“Harry --”

But Hal had already seized Ned’s hand and was storming for the door, which slammed behind them. 

“Not like you could find your way out of this fucking labyrinth anyway,” Hal muttered under his breath as they made their way out of the twisting family apartments. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Ned said as they walked, footfalls echoing off the cavernous walls. “I could have gotten out on my own.”

“Ned, I love you, but shut up.”

“Hey,” Ned swung around so he was facing Hal and touched his jaw. “Hey, are you okay? This isn’t just about... what happened. You’ve looked out of sorts since you came back in with the numbers.”

Hal sighed and leaned into his touch. 

“I know,” he said. “Not here.” Ned reluctantly allowed them to keep walking. He would have to be content with that, as well as with his silences and the way he gripped Ned’s hand like an iron gauntlet.

“Do you really mean it?” Ned asked suddenly as they headed out of the huge iron gates. The weather men hadn’t lied, it seemed. Snow crunched under their shoes and still more flakes fell from the night sky, briefly illuminated in the yellow car lights.

“Mean what?” Hal was searching for a cab to hail. 

“What you said earlier. Just now, I mean.”

“Oh.” Hal looked back at him, swallowing. His lips twisted, as if he were trying to win an argument with himself. “I -- yeah. Yeah. I meant it. Mean it, I mean.”

“So do I,” Ned said softly. They shared a smile, but Hal broke it as he looked away, again with the air of being deeply distracted by something.

The cab ride was silent except for the radio that played The Doors quietly. Hal leaned his head on Ned’s shoulder, despite the awkward angle caused by their seatbelts, and laced their chilled fingers together. Ned let him nestle as close as he liked and tried to swallow his worry.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Hal announced once they returned to his -- technically their -- flat. 

“Want me to join you?” Ned called from the bedroom, undoing his tie. 

“I’m good, but thanks.” Hal passed through with his dressing gown.

“Still want that ice cream?”

“Think I do, yeah,” Hal called, now in the bathroom. “Something alcoholic too.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

Now wearing one of Hal’s t-shirts, Ned padded into the kitchen and surveyed their stock. They were fresh out of beer -- they’d have to make do with bottle of chianti left in the back of the cupboard. Ned grabbed two glasses and filled them to exactly the center, or just below. He’d done a stint as a waiter; he knew the drill. There was a half-full carton of caramel ice cream in the freezer. Ned broke that out too. 

There came the distant sound of the shower shutting off, leaving the flat feeling empty and almost oppressively silent. Ned went to the bathroom door, about to knock and tell him dessert was waiting, but something caught his hand. 

Beyond the door, Hal was crying. 

Dessert was forgotten. Ned laid a tentative, shaking hand on the door. Should he leave him alone, or...? In the end, concern won out over privacy. 

“Hal?” A gentle knock. 

The sounds came to an unsteady halt. 

“Yeah?”

“Is -- is everything okay?”

There was no reply, and so Ned took that as his cue to step inside.

Steam had built up throughout the bathroom, clouding the mirror and leaving a film of moisture over everything. The shower, a glass cubicle with a sliding door, was completely fogged over. Ned could just make out Hal’s shape beyond the glass -- he was sitting on the floor of the cubicle. The shower rattled a little when Ned tapped on the door. Hal groaned. 

“Go on.”

Ned opened it tentatively. 

Hal had been crying hard, it seemed. His face was blotchy, his eyes a deep red. Sitting there on the shower floor with his arms wrapped around his knees, he looked helpless. It was the most fragile Ned had ever seen him.

It would be stupied to ask him if he was alright. Instead, Ned sat down on the floor outside the shower, but Hal turned away and Ned tried not to sound hurt when he asked, _what’s wrong_. Hal didn’t answer. 

“Do you want to be alone?”

His sobs were slowing down. After about a minute, Hal shook his head. 

“I -- er --” he stopped, trying to regain control of his breathing. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked again.

“It’s -- er -- God,” Hal finally turned to face him, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I just -- I’ve really fucked up. And there’s no way I can fix this without making it all worse first.”

“What’s going on?”

Hal took a shuddering breath.

“My dad...” he said, choking. “My dad’s dying.” Ned stared at him, feeling himself grow cold in spite of the bathroom’s blazing humidity.

“Oh, Hal.”

Without another thought, Ned pulled him close, ignoring the water that spilled onto him. Hal’s tears had begun again and all he could do was cry into his shoulder.

“When did you find out?” Ned murmured. Hal shook his head. 

“When -- er -- Look, could you get me a towel? Big one.”

“Sure, sure. Yeah.” Ned got up distractedly and found a spare one in the cabinet under the sink. He handed it to Hal, who stood and wrapped it around his middle. “Go out?” Ned asked, and Hal nodded. He picked up his clothes and allowed Ned to put his arm around his bare shoulders and guide him into the bedroom. 

“It was when he sent me to get those numbers this evening.” Ned nodded and handed him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Hal sighed as he put them on. “And I was feeling really good too, you know? Like, wow, he’s actually trusting me to do something for once. And while I was going through his desk -- he’s so disorganized, you’d never believe it -- I found this folder. And I thought, oh, maybe this is it, and I looked inside and... it was a bunch of medical reports.” He sat down on the bed, Ned joining him, and leaned his head on his shoulder. Ned stroked his still-dripping hair. “Leukemia,” he said. “It’s fucking leukemia. He hasn’t told anyone. The report said he only -- he’s only got a few months.” He stood and began to pace, tearing his hands through his curls. “I’m not ready. I thought I had more time. I can’t take on that kind of responsibility. I’m not ready to give --” He stopped. 

“What?” Ned asked. “Give what, Hal?”

Hal shook his head. 

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

_No, it’s not,_ Ned thought. _Give what? What don’t you want to say to me?_

“You know what’s worse?” Hal went on. “He fucking hates me.”

Ned covered his face with his hands and blew out a sigh.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Is that joke? You heard him tonight!” Hal insisted. “I’m fucking nothing to him. Just because I don’t live up to his fucking expectations. He thinks I’m going to ruin everything.”

“Do you want to go back?” Ned snapped. “Because it’s okay, if you do. I wouldn’t blame you. I’d be okay here.” He stood up and took Hal by the shoulders. “Go back. He wanted you to be there for whatever was happening. It’ll be okay.” Hal shook his head.

“No. He won’t want to talk to me. Trust me. We _always_ let the sun go down on our quarrels in this family,” Hal said grimly. “And then we wake up and pretend that nothing happened.” There was silence.

“Your family is so fucked up,” Ned said at last.

“You’re telling me.” Another pause. Hal’s tears seemed to have finally stopped. “Ned?”

“Yes?” Hal bit his lip and then busied himself with picking up his clothes from that evening. 

“I -- Ned, I’m going to do something horrible,” he said slowly, his voice unsteady. “Not right now, there’s still some time before zero hour. But...” Ned felt his insides twist. “I’m asking you to forgive me. For what I’m going to do.”

“How can I forgive you if I don’t know what you’re going to do?” Ned asked suspiciously. Hal groaned and rubbed at his still-swollen eyes. He still wasn’t meeting Ned’s gaze. 

“I--” He took a deep breath. “I have to leave them,” he said. “Our friends. Doll. Quickly. Even -- god, even fucking _Jack._ They’ve all got -- I have to cut them out. When I’m king.”

Ned stared at him. 

_I was right. Oh my god, I was fucking right._

“And what about me?”

He didn’t want to know the reply. Deep down, he already knew what it would be. 

“No. No!” Hal said quickly, and now he was meeting Ned’s eyes, taking his shoulders. “No, not you. I’m not stopping this. I don’t want to stop this. I don’t want to lose you.” 

So _not_ what he’d thought. Not what he’d dreaded. Not completely. And yet... 

“But the others,” Ned said softly. “They trust you. Doll... she thinks you’re her friend. And you’re just going to throw her away?”

“Ned, I’m going to be king _._ I don’t have a goddamned _choice --”_

“But she trusts you!” Ned blurted out. “We _all_ trust you!”

“I know!” Hal’s voice broke. “I know.”

“There is no part of this that is okay.”

“I _know._ Do you think there’s ever a night when I’m not lying there trying to fall asleep and thinking about what this is going to do to them?”

“Okay, hang on.” Ned closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. “I need a moment.” He turned away from Hal, who swore under his breath. “So... you’re actually planning on doing this. In spite of the guilt, this is engendering, in spite of what this is going to do to them? You’re just going to do it and damn the consequences.”

“What choice do I have? I’m going to be a king,” Hal said quietly. “What I want doesn’t matter. I have to think about what everyone else will think.”

Ned looked back at him. 

“And you used to never care about what people thought. Or what they said.”

“Yeah. I know. This is who you’re with,” Hal said flatly. “A backstabber and a hypocrite. Just a -- generally terrible human being.” 

“Okay, that part I’ve known for a while.” They shared a broken smile. 

“So...” Hal sounded hesitant. “Can you forgive me?” Hesitant, and yet there was desperation in the way his voice shook. Ned bit his lip and sat back on the bed, looking up at him. Hal looked worn-out. 

“One condition,” he said.

“Okay.”

“That you don’t leave them.” Hal opened his mouth to speak, but Ned held up a hand and kept going. “I know you can’t keep barhopping. I know you can’t. But _think_. You’re making time for me. You can make time for them. Even if it’s just the occasional text. But don’t cut them out of your life like they don’t matter.” He got up again and touched Hal’s face. “You don’t have to deal in absolutes,” he murmured. “Life is worth a hell of a lot more than that.”

Hal was silent for a long time, his eyes downcast. Turning the angle of his face just a little, he kissed Ned’s palm, closed his eyes, and exhaled. At long last, he spoke. 

“I’ll... I’ll try,” he said softly. “I can’t guarantee anything. But I’ll try. For you,” he added. His eyes roved over Ned’s face, lingering a moment or two on his lips. 

“Go ahead,” Ned whispered.

“What about the parfait?” Hal replied, equally softly. “I don’t want to send you to the emergency room, or something.”

“I’m not _that_ allergic,” Ned said, a grin pulling at his lips. It felt good to smile properly. 

“Still.”

Ned wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling his head the rest of the way down. 

“That,” he murmured in his ear, “is a chance I’m willing to take.”

They kissed and, to Ned, it tasted like relief.

“Thanks,” he said when it ended.

“For the kiss?” Hal grinned. It was still weak, but stronger than it had been several minutes ago. “Plenty more where that came from.”

“Well, that too, but I meant for listening to me.” Ned squeezed his shoulders. “You could really have fucked yourself over.”

“Good thing I have you, hm?”

Ned just smiled. 

“Let’s go relax,” he suggested, and Hal nodded. Arms wrapped around each other’s waists, they walked out of the bedroom, making for the kitchen, and beyond that, the den. Hal stopped them in the middle of the hallway, though, to pull him into another, deeper kiss. 

“I’m scared,” he said at last. “And my dad... I -- I just don’t want to be on my own. I don’t want to do this. Being king, making all these decisions... saying goodbye.”

“Whatever you need from me,” Ned murmured, “you have. You know that. And, do me a favor?” 

“Yeah?”

“Call your dad tomorrow?”

Hal hesitated, real conflict flashing in his eyes. Then he nodded.

“Okay.” He laughed, but it only made him sound lost. “No idea what I’ll say to him, though.”

“Just clear the air, okay?” Ned’s fingers brushed his lower lip. “This thing you have with your dad... it’s just going to get worse if you don’t try and fix it.”

“I’ll try,” Hal said. “No promises. But I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

The ice cream was little more than mush, but they ate it anyway, sitting on the couch in the den with Arrested Development playing on Hal’s laptop. Ned shifted a little, stroking Hal’s hair as he leaned against his shoulder. He was falling asleep, his breath slowing, warm on Ned’s neck. 

The clock ticked on. The episode ended. Ned pressed a light kiss into his hair and closed his eyes.

 

“So, what’ll it be first?” Doll asked as they slid into their usual barside places at The Boar’s Head. “Vodka, or is tonight going to be a tequila night?”

“Vodka,” Ned said, and Hal seconded it. 

“You two look good,” Doll said after ordering with Quickly. 

“And I don’t always?” Hal quipped.

“Oh, like you need a self-confidence booster,” she teased. “No, but really. You both look really good. And comfortable with each other. Lots more.”

Hal took the glass that Quickly slid across the bar and took a gulp. He’d been at Buckingham for the majority of the day, having only come home a few hours before he and Ned went out. Somehow, he showed little sign of his exhaustion.  

“Can’t think why,” Ned said, taking a sip of his own drink. 

“I guess that’s just what happens when you get to know somebody.” Hal shot him a grin. “Lot can happen in, like, a week and a half, huh?” 

“How d’you mean?” Doll asked. She’d opted for the tequila, and had just knocked five shots back. 

“Oh, you know,” Hal said with another sip of his vodka. “Something happens, and the next thing you know, you’re _together_ and the world just seems to be moving way too fast for you.”

“Hold up,” Doll said. “You said a week?” Hal hummed. Doll’s forehead wrinkled. “What happened to five months?”

There was dead silence as Hal and Ned exchanged glances. Typical Hal. Typical fucking Hal. 

“Oh, you know how it is is,” Ned said finally, taking Hal’s hand and pressing his lips to his knuckles absently. “Time flies, I guess.” He couldn’t help cracking a smile, especially after Hal grinned and rolled his eyes. 

“Right. Of course.” Doll was still watching them, a little bewildered. From across the room, there came a roar of laughter from the crowd gathered around Falstaff. Hal and Ned let him be. 

Further down the bar, a girl with pink highlights in her hair picked up her phone and announced to the room at large that the Percies were mustering an army with full intention of taking the crown. She was attracting attention too.

 With little fuss, Hal turned his back to her and kissed Ned, placing their hands strategically to hide his face.  

The future was a long way off. They could take their time.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as princehalsdaddyissues if you want to yell a lot about Shakespeare with me.


End file.
